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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29970555">If I make it through tonight</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiki_Kat/pseuds/Kiki_Kat'>Kiki_Kat</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Dream SMP Angst go BRRRRRRRRR [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>:P, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angry Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Angry Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety Attacks, Anyways, BAMF GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Bad Parenting, Brat Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Brat GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Brat Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Caring Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Child Abuse, Claustrophobic TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream &amp; GeorgeNotFound &amp; Sapnap Friendship (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream &amp; Sapnap Friendship (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream &amp; Sapnap are Childhood Friends (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream and Sapnap Are Roommates (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream and Sapnap Live Together (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream and TommyInnit are Siblings (Video Blogging RPF), Comfort/Angst, Depressed TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Dre and Toms have a sibling like dynamic in this, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Fluff, FUCK, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fuck covid it doesn’t exist in this story, Gaslighting, Gen, GeorgeNotFound &amp; Sapnap Friendship (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound is Not Colorblind (Video Blogging RPF), Good Friend Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Good Friend Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Good Friend Toby Smith | Tubbo, Good Older Sibling Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Good Older Sibling Wilbur Soot, Good Sibling Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Heavy Angst, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), I hate school, I legit torture Tommy so much in this 😭😭, I mean it’s Tommy :), I promise, IRL Fic, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, It Gets Better, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, I’m sorry, Just a little tho and it doesn’t last long, Kinda, LETS GOOOOOO, Lonely TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Mind Manipulation, Ngl the Dream Team are kinda jerks at first, Not that much though, Older Sibling Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Older Sibling Wilbur Soot, POV Alternating, Panic Attacks, Physical Abuse, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Plz stay safe though guys, Protective Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Protective GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Older Sibling Wilbur Soot, Protective Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Toby Smith | Tubbo, Runaway TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Sad TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Sad and Angry TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Scared TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Small refs to the SMP war roleplay, Soft Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Soft GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Soft Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Soft Toby Smith | Tubbo, Soft TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Starvation, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicidal TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Suicide Attempt, Team as Family, Toby Smith | Tubbo &amp; TommyInnit Friendship, Toby Smith | Tubbo and Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, Toby Smith | Tubbo is a Sleepy Bois Inc Member, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Deserves Better (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Has Issues (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Has Nightmares (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Has Panic Attacks (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Has Trust Issues (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Has a Bad Time (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Needs a Break (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Swears (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit is Missing (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit is Not Okay (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Tommyinnit is Bad at Feelings (Video Blogging RPF), Touch-Starved TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Traumatized TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Worried Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Worried Toby Smith | Tubbo, Worried Wilbur Soot, Younger Sibling TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), and tired, but - Freeform, ewwww guys Tommys a minor cmon lmao, im bored, no beta we die like men, no ships, not blood wise but y’know, not really - Freeform, sorry - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 03:08:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>24,583</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29970555</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiki_Kat/pseuds/Kiki_Kat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The worst kind of pain is the kind that you feel deep within your soul.<br/>——————————————</p><p>Tommy had no idea where he was going. All he knew was that he was getting further, and that alone in a way provided some sort of comfort. </p><p>The next thing he knew he was bumping into someone so hard that he would have fallen if it hadn’t been for a hand reaching out and pulling him back on his feet mid-fall, his cheeks flushing at the action. </p><p>“Tommy? What the fuck?”</p><p>(Or, Tommy is beaten, bruised and broken and he receives help from the last person he’d expect.)</p><p>Originally titled “The Worst kind of Pain”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream &amp; GeorgeNotFound &amp; Sapnap &amp; TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream &amp; GeorgeNotFound &amp; Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream &amp; Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream &amp; TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound &amp; TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), No Romantic Relationship(s), Sapnap &amp; TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade &amp; TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Tommy &amp; Wilbur, TommyInnit &amp; Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), tommy &amp; tubbo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Dream SMP Angst go BRRRRRRRRR [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2221593</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>66</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1846</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Can I see you, then?” </p><p>Tommy scoffs in annoyance. “What?” </p><p>“If you’re fine, then there’s no problem in turning your camera on then, right?”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW: Language, Physical/Mental Abuse, Self Harm</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tommy blinks sleep away from his eyes, groaning as he turned over and pressed a shaky arm to his face, inhaling deeply.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>”Fuck.” he muttered to himself, wincing as he wrapped his arm around his stomach. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>His eyes wandered over to the clock blearily, instantly widening once he realized what time it was. “Fuck!” <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>The teen shot up, swinging his legs over the bed too quickly and knocking one into the nearby nightstand. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>“<em>Fuck</em>!” he swore a final time, rubbing the sore spot as he muttered a few more swear words under his breath. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>“Fucking stupid nightstand...” he grumbled. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>He swallowed thickly, picking himself off the bed. He still had a little bit, didn’t he? <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>Tommy cautiously cracked the door open, very nearly leaning into the doorframe with relief at the sight of the empty living room. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>He stepped outside and made his way into the kitchen where there was a mountain of dirtied dishes in the sink. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>There had been a lot of people over lately, none of which truly gave a flying fuck about him. The friends his parents hung out with were a real bunch of scumbags. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>He could swear that those bastards loved to make more work for him. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>One time one of those dickwads had dropped their plates on purpose, smirked at him and said, “oops” sarcastically and had the audacity to add, “What’re you looking at? Clean it up. Chop chop, little shit” and he laughed. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>Tommy, rightfully enraged at the man had cursed him out, however he had learned to never do that again. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>His father had pulled him into a room, giving him a piece of his mind and once he was done Tommy had walked out, black eye and bloody nose. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>Nobody had even batted an eye. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>Assholes. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>His eyes glance at the clock every minute or so as he scrubs at each plate with ease, if not a little anxiously at the same time. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>First he had to do the dishes. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>Then he had to clean every damn room in the house, because somehow those friends of theirs manage to trash wherever they went every time, like the damn <em>idiots</em> they were. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>After that he had to get all the garbage out. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>Once that was done he had to make sure that all the laundry was washed, dried, folded and put away. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>And he had to get it all done in under an hour. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>His father would be home by then, and the last thing he needed was to deal with his wrath if he were to see that not everything was done. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>One who had no idea of how he lived would tell him he was being overdramatic but Tommy was just fine with the amount of black and blue on his body and he didn’t need to add another to his collection, thank you very much. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>He was also required to have a snack out for him once he got home from work each day, because <em>God Forbid </em>his ass makes it for himself. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>“Fuck me.” he mutters to himself out of spite. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>Why did <em>he</em> have to do all this? Oh, right, he didn’t have a choice. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>He should, though. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>And he’s wished every day for as long as he could remember that he did. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>But there’s no use being a pissbaby about it. What would it change? Nothing. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>Still, what he would give to live like a normal teenager. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>He lets out a huff. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>At least the dishes were done. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>The blonde begrudgingly grabbed a trash bag and walked back into the living room where cans and plates and all sorts of other garbage littered the floors. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>Goddamn pigs. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>At least they had the decency to puke in the toilet bowl and not on the floor. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>There was <em>no</em> way he’d clean that shit up. He didn’t care if he were to be hit until he passed out. No thank you. Not gonna happen. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>He felt his heart drop when he heard the familiar sound of a key jiggling in a lock, making him freeze. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>Oh Christ. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, no! He wasn’t supposed to be back <em>yet</em>! <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>He winced involuntarily as the door creaked open and a set of feet stepped in side, quickly followed by the sound of the door <em>slamming</em> shut again once more. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>Oh fuck. Oh shit. He was <em>pissed</em>. The teen’s heart pounded violently. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>“Tommy,” his father spat, like the boy’s name was poison on his tongue. “What the <em>fuck</em> is this? I thought I told you to have this <em>entire</em> house spotless when I got back, didn’t I?” <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>“Y—Yeah,” is what came out of his mouth, trying his hardest to make sure it came out as an actual reply and not a stupid <em>squeak. </em>Don’t be such a pussy. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>“You did. It’s just, you’re home early.” His eyes did a quick glance at the clock before they darted back to look at his father’s in record time, and how stupid is that? He couldn’t look away for over a minute because even the smallest lack of eye contact manages to get his dad enraged at him. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>“I thought you’d be back at four.” he finishes meekly in a mumble. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>“What damn relevance does <em>that</em> have? You could have gotten it all done if you had stayed on it! When the fuck did you even get started?” <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>The blonde’s anxiety was hitting the roof, but he had learned the hard way long ago what would happen if he lied. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>“I—umm,” he swallowed. “I started twenty minutes ago...I fell asleep...” </p>
<p><br/>
“You little shit! Did I tell you that you could sleep!?” <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>“No...but it was an accident—“ </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Look at this face! Does it look to you that I give a flying fuck about your excuses!?” Tommy opened his mouth, only to be cut off once again. “The correct answer is no! I don’t! You ungrateful little asshole! We provide a roof for you to stay under with clean clothes and fresh food and <em>this</em> is how you repay us? We gave you so much, and when we decide to have some people over to have a good time, your worthless ass can’t even do something as basic as clean up the house before I get home!?!” <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>“If everyone weren’t such slobs, I wouldn’t have to clean up anything.” Tommy muttered as lowly as he could under his breath, but unfortunately for him his father heard him nonetheless.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>”What—“ The trash bag fell from the boy’s hand as his father grabbed his arm and slammed him into the wall and his face is merely inches away from the Brit’s, and Tommy can smell the alcohol on his breath. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>“—The <em>fuck</em> was that?” The man snarls vehemently, eyes raging. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>The teen doesn’t even try to hide it anymore, his own widened in fear. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>“N—Nothing....I—“</p>
<p> </p>
<p>”You better watch yourself, you hear me you little fucker? And you better know your place and watch that tongue of yours because if you don’t then I have <em>no</em> fucking problem destroying that computer, understand?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>”Yes. ‘M sorry. ‘M sorry.” <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>And shit, for his sake he <em>means</em> it. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>His dad lets go and backs up only to slug him right in the nose, causing a surprised yelp to get stuck in his throat, then the man raises his hand and in a blind rage shoves the stack of plates that Tommy had worked so hard on cleaning all to the floor, the sounds of shattering glass ringing in the blonde’s ears and he’s in too much pain to make a sound as his father knees him hard in the stomach and he falls to the ground, barely wincing anymore as he gives a final kick to the boy’s side.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>”You better have this shit cleaned up and dinner made by the time I wake up! Otherwise your ass can <em>starve</em> just like last night!” His father growled, grumbling out as he walked off, “Worthless little parasite....”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A few minutes pass before the blonde uncurled from the ball that he was in. He slowly sat up, limbs shaky and a nauseous feeling in the pit of his stomach. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>He coughed a little as the pain from the blow to his stomach and side began to set in, gradually picking himself off the floor. He fought furiously against the burning in his eyes. He shouldn’t even be feeling that at this point. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>Tommy sweeped up the glass shards before emptying them into the trash can and then slowly inching towards his father’s room, feeling some relief at seeing him passed out on the bed. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>The teen quickly made his way to his room, shutting his door and trying his hardest to get his breathing under control. He shivered uncontrollably and that bloody damned wet feeling returned in his eyes. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>His computer suddenly went off, ringing a familiar tone that caused Tommy to jump with a small yelp and he practically rushes over to his computer, scowling at the name displayed in annoyance but answering quicker than he thought possible because oh God if it woke his dad up—</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Tubbo, what the fuck?” Tommy exclaimed in an irritated voice the minute he pressed Accept on the Video Chat. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>“Hey Tommy!” Tubbo grins on the other line, oblivious to the blonde’s attitude. “Wilbur’s going on Stream with me and Techno and Dream and Quackity and Sapnap in a few minutes to play Among Us, wanna hop on?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>”No thanks. I’m good.” The latter quickly shot the offer down. He wanted to play, but he just had way too much shit to get done and here Tubbo was practically wasting his time to do so—he needed to get off. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>“But you never decline that.” The Brunet’s smile wavered, then fell. “Are you okay?” <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>“I’m fine, Christ just fuck off!” Tommy says through gritted teeth, more harsh than he had intended. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>Tubbo didn’t flinch or bristle at his tone, merely asks, “Can I see you, then?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>”<em>What</em>?” <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>“Can I see you? If you’re fine, then there’s no problem with turning your camera on then, right?” <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>Tommy scoffs incredulously, <em>because for Fuck’s sake he doesn’t have time for this</em>, but if it’ll get Tubbo off his ass and him off the call quicker then so be it. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>“Oh my God, Tommy! Your nose!” His friend exclaims a little too loud for his liking. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>“Yeah I know, no fucking shit.” He mumbles sarcastically. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>“What happened this time?” Tubbo asked knowingly. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>Tubbo was the only one who knew about his situation. He had found out on accident, really. But Tommy had made him <em>swear</em> not to tell anyone else, something that Tubbo had stuck to. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>Tommy shrugs carelessly, “Same old bullshit, I fell asleep and didn’t have the whole house cleaned by the time he got home so he decided to hand my ass to me.” <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>Tubbo’s silent for a minute. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, Tommy,” he says, sounding like he feels awful. “I’m sorry that I can’t do anything to help.” <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>Except he had <em>tried</em> to help before, and it didn’t end very well. <br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t be such a bitch.” Tommy mutters, but his voice is a little lighter because deep down he never got tired of his friend’s concern for him. He was such an ass towards him, and yet he stuck around. For fuck’s sake, he truly didn’t deserve him, but whatever. “It’s nothing I’m not used to, anyway.” And its true.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo doesn’t push it, instead asking, “Are you gonna be ready for the stream in a few days?” When Tommy doesn’t say anything, merely raising a brow, he continues, “Yunno, the one with George and the others.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Realization hits him like a brick to the face, and he mumbles, “Oh yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Shit. He had completely forgotten all about that. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah.” He says after a moment, and that’s all he has to say because suddenly he doesn’t have the energy to keep up a conversation.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Yet he talks with Tubbo for another minute or so, and then bids him farewell with the promise given to him that the latter would tell the others he had a ‘family thing’ going on. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Honestly though, what <em>family</em>? <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">After Tubbo leaves, he turns his computer off and removes his headset. He rests his head in his arms, digging his nails into his palms and wrists hard enough that it hurts, hard enough that it leaves little crescent moon marks and his skin a bright red. </span><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He deserves it. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tommy let out a small sigh, resting his arms on the iron. </p><p>He had heard that people have come out here to kill themselves before.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Short chapter! :))</p><p>TW Warning: Mentions of Suicide, Suicidal thoughts (It’s brief but it’s there)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tommy hadn’t gone to sleep until around one a.m.</p><p> </p><p>It had taken him a while to get everything finished up. It amazed him how his father didn’t wake up once when Tommy was cleaning in their bedroom. <br/><br/></p><p>His mother didn’t even spare him a “hello” once she returned home later that night. Another thing he was used to. He was invisible to his parents unless they wanted something from him. <br/><br/></p><p>He was forced to listen to his parents argue for about an hour. Any other kid would be surprised they weren’t divorced by now, but Tommy certainly wasn’t. <br/><br/></p><p>And why would he be? <br/><br/></p><p>His parents were perfect for each other. <br/><br/></p><p>They both hated the shit out of Tommy. <br/><br/></p><p>At the end of the day, the blonde liked to believe that was the thing holding them together.</p><p> </p><p>He could barely stay awake to complete all his make up work that he had for his classes, but he had luckily managed to do so, almost passing out once he was done with his last one. <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy let out an exhausted huff, pulling himself out of his chair and flopping into his bed. <br/><br/></p><p>Thank God tomorrow was the weekend. <br/><br/></p><p>00000000000000000000</p><p>”Can I go out today?” Tommy asks his parents the next morning. <br/><br/></p><p>“Where are you going?” His father asks, not because he particularly cares, but because that’s something parents are supposed to say, even the ones who could care less about their kids. He doesn’t even look up from his paper and make eye contact with the blonde. <br/><br/></p><p>The hypocrite. <br/><br/></p><p>“I don’t know.” Tommy admits, playing with the hem of his shirt before looking up at his parents. It wasn’t like he was meeting up with anyone. He just needed to get out for a while. “I was gonna go for a walk downtown or something.” <br/><br/></p><p>“That depends,” his mother riposted colorlessly, raising a brow at him. “What time will you be back? You need to prepare dinner early tonight. Me and your father will be gone for the rest of the evening and won’t be back until tomorrow midnoon.” <br/><br/></p><p>It was a mini business trip that they were taking. That meant he would be getting rid of them for a while and Tommy was ecstatic at the very thought.</p><p> </p><p>”I’ll be back at four thirty.” He promises.</p><p> </p><p>”Fine.” <br/><br/></p><p>And the conversation ends there, because he’s not worth keeping up a conversation with. <br/><br/></p><p>
  <strike>Honestly, he’s not worth anything</strike>
</p><p> </p><p>The teen spends half the day cleaning around the kitchen and the beginning of the other half texting with Tubbo for a while before deciding he wanted alone time and bid farewell.</p><p> </p><p>His parents aren’t in there when he walks through the living room to the front door, pulling on the rest of his hoodie and stepping outside into the crisp autumn air. <br/><br/></p><p>He curses under his breath as the icy winds hit him like a slap to the face, but he forces himself to suck it up and pulls up his hood, shoving his hands in his pockets and genuinely wishing he had brought his fucking gloves with him but what the hell. <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy wandered around the streets, half paying attention to where he was walking and another half of him with his head in the clouds.</p><p> </p><p>He rests his chin on his folded arms that he places upon the iron fence, gazing into the lake below. <br/><br/></p><p>The bridge that he stood on was pretty high up. <br/><br/></p><p>He had heard that people had come here to commit suicide before. It was rare, but it’s happened.</p><p> </p><p>The blonde swallowed thickly, digging his nails into his palms and soothing himself.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>Did it hurt when they hit the water?</strike>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike>Would it hurt if he tried?</strike>
</p><p> </p><p>Tommy froze, shaking his head. Where the hell had those thoughts come from? <br/><br/></p><p>He frowned, slowly backing away from the edge. <br/><br/></p><p>He still had a while to kill, but that while should probably be used to not be near the lake. <br/><br/></p><p>Besides, he had enough money to buy some food before he headed back. <br/><br/></p><p>With a small smile firmly in place, he set off to the nearest drugstore.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“Don’t.” </p><p>A shiver was sent down Tommy’s spine at the grin that formed on his father’s face. “I know just the thing. Gets his ass back in line every time.” </p><p>The blonde felt a lump form in his throat. Oh God, anything but that.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“TOMMY! Get your <em>fucking</em> ass in here!” <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy, who had been laying on his bed and currently playing a game on his phone, jolted at the angry tone of his father. <br/><br/></p><p>He abandoned his device on his bed and speed walked out of his room, heart rate beginning to elevate. <br/><br/></p><p>The teen arrived into the living room, seeing his father in one of the chairs with his laptop wide open and glowering at Tommy, his mother standing next to him with her arms folded across her chest, void of any emotion. <br/><br/></p><p>“What is the goddamn <em>meaning</em> of this?” His dad demanded, voice a low growl. <br/><br/></p><p>The blonde swallowed thickly, spoke past the lump in his throat, “What did I do?” <br/><br/></p><p><em>Now </em>was purposely left out. He was way too nervous to come off as sarcastic or cocky. <br/><br/></p><p>The man merely spun the computer around to face the teen. Tommy flinched, squinting at the sudden bright light but once his eyes adjusted he looked. <br/><br/></p><p>His stomach dropped. <br/><br/></p><p>“Why the <em>hell</em> do you have a <em>C</em> in one of your classes!?” His father yelled, making him flinch once again.</p><p> </p><p>”I—I,” Tommy gulped. He was already shaking and he absolutely fucking <em>hated</em> it. “I f—failed my test, sir.”</p><p> </p><p>”You <em>what</em>!? You fucking failed?!” <br/><br/></p><p>“Yes....” </p><p> </p><p>“Yes, <em>what</em> you little shit!?” <br/><br/></p><p>“Yes....<em>sir</em>.....I failed.” <br/><br/></p><p>“This is bullshit!” His father scoffed, throwing his hands in the air. “Did you even goddamn <em>study</em>!?” <br/><br/></p><p>“Yes!” Tommy insisted desperately, fingernails curling into his palms. It felt good. “Yes, I—I did! I m—mean, I tried to, I got some studying in, b—but then I had a lot going on with my channel and everything and I really had to have these videos posted—“ </p><p> </p><p>“Oh for Christ’s sake, again with this gaming bullshit!?” His mother spat, venom lacing her voice. <br/><br/></p><p>“It’s not bullshit! It’s what I do, and I love it!” Tommy talked back, struck by a sudden hit of confidence. <br/><br/></p><p>“What you <em>should</em> be doing is getting out there and looking for a <em>real</em> job that pays real money!” <br/><br/></p><p>“It is a real job! Have you even seen how much I make!?” <br/><br/></p><p>“Enough!” His father ended the banter, slamming his hand on the table and Tommy jumped. “At this point, it isn’t even about the amount of fucking cash you make, Tommy, it’s about having your priorities straight which you clearly <em>don’t</em>! And since that’s the case, perhaps it’s time to end that “career” of yours.”</p><p> </p><p>Tommy’s stomach dropped. <br/><br/></p><p><em>End his career</em>? <br/><br/></p><p>“no no no no, Dad, you can’t be serious,” Tommy found himself begging, too panicked to give a shit about his pride. “I love my career. I’ve made friends through it. Please.” <br/><br/></p><p>“No Tommy.” His mother cut in. “We have already made it clear time and time again in the past that you have to maintain <em>Straight A’s</em> if you want to keep that....little <em>hobby</em> of yours.” <br/><br/></p><p>“But it’s only <em>one</em> C!” Tommy protested, feeling rage and fear bubble within him. “And it’s in my <em>one normal</em> class! I have A’s in my other classes, and those are <em>all</em> honors! Do you have any idea of how fucking hard it is to do that?!”</p><p> </p><p>”Do <em>not</em> take that tone of voice with <em>me</em>, Thomas.” Tommy bristled at his full name.  “But <em>fine</em>. Since you care about that petty little job of yours so much, we’ll give you a chance. Have that C back up to an A by <em>tomorrow</em>, and we’ll let you keep it.” <br/><br/></p><p>“Tomorrow!?” Tommy squeaked incredulously. “But Mom, tomorrow is Sunday! Teachers barely grade on the weekends, and even if he does I have way too much to do, I’ll have to stay up all night and I have a stream to get done tomorrow!”</p><p> </p><p>”Well I guess you better get started then.” <br/><br/></p><p>The conversation ended there, at least for his parents but <em>no Tommy wasn’t having it this time</em>. <br/><br/></p><p>“<em>This</em> is such <em>bullshit</em>!” He exclaimed, taking satisfaction in at the sight of his startled parents. “You both are being <em>so</em> unfair! I work my ass off, every hour, every day of the week, I get nearly one hundred percents on all of my assignments and have ninety five percent A’s in my honors classes, I get <em>one</em> goddamn C and I get threatened to drop my Gaming Career!?  You know I’m sorry that I can’t reach your <em>ridiculously high expectations</em>, but why do I have to take this shit from my <em>own parents</em>, from <em>hypocrites</em> no less!?” <br/><br/></p><p>His mother began walking towards him, probably to pop him, but he watched as his father stopped her by grabbing her arm. <br/><br/></p><p>“Don’t,” he says, eerily calm, and the grin he’s wearing sends a chill down the teen’s spine. “I know just the thing to get his ass back in line. Works every time.” <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy watches with quickly rising horror as his father pulls out a key and the walks toward him. <br/><br/></p><p>He’s frozen stiff, and all he can do is beg frantically as his father grabs his arm, “Dad, Dad, no, no no no, please not that, anything but that I’ll be good I—I promise I’ll behave n—no, don’t—“ </p><p> </p><p><em>Fucking hell</em> he’d rather take a drunken beating twice worse than usual. <br/><br/></p><p>His father doesn’t reply, snickering as he drags the boy who thrashes all the way there, but it’s no use, his father’s too damn strong—</p><p> </p><p>A whimper escapes him against his will as they enter his bedroom, and before he knows it he’s being thrown into his dark, narrow closet and the door is slammed behind him. <br/><br/></p><p>He gasps breathlessly, instantly flying up from the floor and grabbing the handle only for it to refuse to move as a small ‘click’ fills the air. <br/><br/></p><p>The boy wriggles it anyways, “Dad,” he says, because he just knows that the tyrant he has for a father is still there, practically soaking in and enjoying his suffering, “Dad, o—open the d—door.” <br/><br/></p><p>“No, Tommy. You did this to yourself. Your little ass will stay in here until you learn to respect your mother and I.” <br/><br/></p><p>“Dad, please, I—I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he wriggles the doorknob harder, “I—I’m sorry, I’ll be better, j—just please let me out—“</p><p> </p><p>”I’ll let you out when I feel you have learned your lesson.” <br/><br/></p><p>His breathing picks up and his hand shakes, eyes beginning to burn, “<em>Please</em>, Dad,  I—I c—can’t stay in here,” he gasps, “I c—can’t b—breathe”</p><p> </p><p>His father scoffs on the other side, “Oh for <em>fuck’s sake</em>, Tommy, I thought we’ve been over this. You can breathe just fine! I thought you got over this ridiculous fear back when you were younger, but I suppose I was wrong though now’s as good as time as any.” <br/><br/></p><p>“I—It’s n—not r—ridiculous, pl—please...”</p><p> </p><p>”I’ll be back to fetch you in a little while.”</p><p> </p><p>He hears footsteps walk away from his closet door, and the sound of his bedroom door closing. <br/><br/></p><p>“Dad!?” He screams, terrified. “Dad, please come back! I can’t stay in here! Let me out, let me out, let me out please!!” <br/><br/></p><p>He full on panics, pounding on the door and throwing himself against it repeatedly, only for the attempts to prove to be fruitless as they left him with a raw throat and aching limbs that would more than likely bruise later on.</p><p> </p><p>After a few minutes, he quiets down, slumping against the door with hot tears rolling down his cheeks, fast breathing uncontrollable and hard, trembling all over. He feels sick. His breaths start to get caught in his throat and his heart pounds. <br/><br/></p><p>“<em>Please</em>....” he rasps out weakly as his vision tunnels. <br/><br/></p><p>Then everything goes black.</p><hr/><p>Tommy isn’t sure what time it is when he wakes up. <br/><br/></p><p>He isn’t even sure if it’s still day or not. <br/><br/></p><p>All he knows is ths thing that wakes him up is the sound of footsteps, a door opening as his eyes blearily open, and at the sound of someone walking towards his closet door they widen and he scrambles to sit up as he hears the sound of a key jingling in the lock, and then the door opens a crack. <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy gazes back at his father’s expressionless face. <br/><br/></p><p>“Have you learned your lesson, or do I need to keep you in here <em>longer</em>?” He drawls out. <br/><br/></p><p>“N—No,” Tommy insists shakily. “Please. I get it.” <br/><br/></p><p>“Will you continue to be a bad kid or will you straighten up?” <br/><br/></p><p>“I’ll straighten up, I—I promise.”</p><p> </p><p>His father snorts, but nevertheless pulls the key out of the lock and pulls the door open all the way with a comment of, “Have dinner prepared in ten minutes.” <br/><br/></p><p>The blonde barely registers his father as he walks out of his room, and he imagines that he must look so pathetic, clutching at his chest and gasping for air, coughing some and cheeks stained with dry tear tracks and all, body quaking. <br/><br/></p><p><em>Goddamnit, he hates it when they do that.</em> <br/><br/></p><p>He barely recovers enough once it’s time to make the food, but he manages to pull through anyways and in response they give him a slightly bigger amount of food than usual, although that isn’t saying much because he usually gets practical morsels—like the size of those meals that are served at very expensive resturants. No sides, no dessert just that small piece of food. <br/><br/></p><p>The teen had complained about it once, but had been quickly shut up and told that he should be grateful that he was getting anything, that what he got was better than nothing. <br/><br/></p><p>They weren’t <em>completely</em> wrong. Tommy still despised it though, as anyone would. <br/><br/></p><p>He finished his dish in record time, of course having to stay up all night to finish what he needed to, and once he was done he had only gotten two hours of sleep. <br/><br/></p><p>But it was okay, because the next day he was on his second cup of coffee when he approached his parents. He knew some parents didn’t allow their kids coffee until they were moved out, but his parents didn’t give a shit about what he drank, like they didn’t give a shit about many things in Tommy’s life. <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mom, is it okay if I stream tonight with my friends?” Tommy asks in a quiet voice. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“I don’t care.” His mom replies coldly. “Just don’t get too loud, or I’ll come in there and </span> <span class="s2"> <em>make</em> </span> <span class="s1"> you shut up.”</span></p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy nodded, and as he walked off he heard her conversing with his father. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Friends</em>,” She repeated, scoffing. “He has no friends. Who could possibly put up with that piece of trash for even a minute? I can gurantee they find his little ass annoying as fuck.” She cackles, and his dad joins in on the laughter.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy tries his best to ignore the way his stomach twists painfully at the comment. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He fails.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">”Dude, you good?” Tubbo asks in a concerned tone once night falls and it’s time for the stream and Tommy and him are the only ones there, waiting for the others. </span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah.” Tommy replies, barely managing to stifle a yawn. “Just had a lot of shit going on lately.” <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">And oh boy, was </span><em>that</em> an understatement. <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“If you say so.” Tubbo says hesitantly. “Still, you don’t sound the best. There’s still time to, y’know, back out. Could say you’re sick, which wouldn’t really be lying, ‘cuz you kinda sound that way, man.” </span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thanks.” Tommy snorts saracastically. Still, he contemplates it.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Those thoughts are squashed however, because the sound that alerts them that someone else has joined the call rings out. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Whatever. It’s fine. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey Tommy,” It’s Dream, a smile in his voice, “I thought for a minute you guys weren’t gonna show.” </span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey yourself Big D,” Tommy throws back, “And miss the opportunity to kick your ass? Pfft, sure keep thinkin’ that.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream lets out a small wheeze, multiple pings ringing out in the background as George, Sapnap, Sam, Bad and Quackity join. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy sets up Minecraft, and once he’s sure Tubbo’s on too he messages him. </span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <strong> <span class="s1">You whisper to Tubbo_: It’s fine, seriously</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <strong> <span class="s1">Tubbo_ whispers to you: Alright</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy smiles to himself. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Everything goes fine for the longest while. They’re all laughing and having a good time. </span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">Then, the blonde doesn’t know how but things just turn so </span><em>wrong</em>. <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It had started off as a comment, really, he didn’t know who had said it or oddly enough what exactly was said, but it had quickly escalated from a heated debate with George (surprise surprise, Tommy knew he wasn’t for he and the older Brit had never exactly gotten along that well, the two bickered more than the Brunet and Sapnap did, and that was truly saying something, for he also knew George couldn’t stand him) to a full blown argument, George spatting things that hit home (another “surprise”, the man always had a sharp tongue on him and he knew how to use it) and then one by one Dream and Sap and Sam and Bad and Quackity were all dragged into it, with Tubbo left desperately trying to diffuse the situation.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Quackity and Bad didn’t really say anything, they were just telling them to shut up, same with Sam. In reality, as much as Tommy hated to admit it, he was just as much to blame as George was. </span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then things got worse, because after the awkward silence stretched on for a few minutes, Sapnap made an offhanded comment about Tommy being so annoying to which George quickly agreed to, and even Dream jumped in on it. </span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">After a minute it was a practical session that messed with Tommy, saying how <em>annoying</em> he was and teasing him, if he weren’t so low he’d be able to take it a little better but his heart rate started picking up at the words and he began to feel sick.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He flinched when he heard Dream’s wheezing laughter. </span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It stung to know that the man that he had come to really look up to, the man that he had come to practically see as a older brother thought that he was nothing but an annoying piece of shit. </span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It hurt way more than he thought it could, than he wanted it to and way more than he wanted to admit to himself.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He was used to hearing it from his parents, but hearing it from people that he venerates was an entirely different story.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And he realizes, as his hands reach up to clench at his hair, that suddenly it’s <em>too much</em>, <em>the laughter is too much, the teasing is too much, the words are too much, there are tears slowly beginning to drip down his face and oh Christ he feels like a pussy as his breathing speeds up rapidly and his body begins to tremble, his cheeks burn it’s <b>pathetic</b> but he can’t help it and oh god he can’t breathe he can’t breathe he can’t breathe—</em></span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <strong> <span class="s1">Tubbo_ whispers to you: Tommy...? Tommy! Are you okay!?</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <strong> <span class="s1">Tommyinnit left the game.</span> </strong>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy shut his computer off, slowly setting his headphones down as more tears fell down his face dripping onto his desk, his chest hurt like hell as he gasped for air and he felt like he was going to throw up, cold chills being sent down his spine nonstop, but he knew if he didn’t calm down soon he would pass out and the last thing he needed was to do <em>that</em> shit again, so he shakily closed his eyes and focused on the breathing exercises that he had been walked through and tried to take his mind off of what had happened. </span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It took ten minutes, and once the attack was passed he was not only worn out but ashamed. Disapppointed.<br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><br/>He clawed his arms absentmindedly, digging his nails into the skin and sliding. It wasn’t enough to draw blood, but enough to leave bright pink scratch marks on his arms. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The teen let out a hollow chuckle. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Well shit. </span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His stupid parents were right. <br/></span>
</p><hr/><p class="p1">If Tubbo wasn’t irritated when the others started messing with his friend, he was <em>certainly</em> irritated when they didn’t even react when the boy had left the game. <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">They had just laughed and continued on with the Stream. <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">Tommy had told him earlier in the day what had happened the night before, and remembering only made Tubbo <em>more</em> upset because the younger wasn’t up for much more, and it was a dick move for them to act the way they did. <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">The blonde didn’t deserve that.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">He didn’t say anything until the Stream was over and they were all hanging in the call. <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">It was when the group, Dream specifically had playfully brought it up and the others chuckled that Tubbo stepped in, unable to hold back any longer. </p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What was that for!? You guys didn’t have to be such assholes!” Tubbo swears, sending the others’ laughter into stunned silence that stretched on for a minute.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It wasn’t like the teen to get so frustrated like this, and quite frankly it freaked them out. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Whoa, Tubs, chill bud,” Dream is the only one to speak up, giving a nervous laugh. “We were just messing around. It’s not a big deal.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t care! He <em>clearly</em> didn’t take it that way, why else do you think he left?” He questions his best friend’s idol, role model.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We were just joking....Toms knows that.” The grin fades from the blonde’s tone and he sounds uncertain. Everyone else remains silent, too scared to say anything.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">”Does he now? Then why was he the only one </span><em>not</em> laughing?” <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When Dream goes silent and nobody else steps up to say anything still, the boy lets out a huff. “Y’know what? Forget it.” </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He leaves the call without saying anything else  and turns off his computer. He sends a couple of text messages to Tommy before leaving the room for dinner at the sound of his mother’s call.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When he returns thirty minutes later, he’s met with a single response from Tommy. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <strong> <span class="s1">‘For fuck’s sake, chill. I was sleeping.’<br/></span> </strong>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He ignores the tone, quickly texting back. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em><span class="s1">’Dude! You worried me, what happened? Are you okay?’ <br/><br/></span> </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <strong>’I’m fine.’ <br/></strong> </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">Tubbo purses his lips. Something just <em>tells</em> him </span> <span class="s1">that Tommy’s lying. <br/></span></p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">‘No, you’re not. Tell me.’</span> </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ongggg thank y’all so much for the kudos! I lowkey didn’t expect ppl to like this that much, I just wrote this when I was in a shitty mood 😂😂 </p><p>For reference, I purposely didn’t write what The Dream Team said to Tommy on purpose because I wanted to leave it up to readers’ imagination on what they said to get Tommy to riled up. Though a hint, it wasn’t cruel, but it was a sort of mean way too far kind of teasing and same goes for George, he wasn’t cruel but he was mean about it. </p><p>Thanks again!!! :p</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>He chucked his phone across the room, not caring about the possible damage as it fell onto the carpet floor and he cried, pressing his palms to his face angrily. </p><p>“Hello?” A tired voice rang out. “Tommy?” </p><p>Said teen froze, heart stopping. </p><p>Oh my fucking God, please no.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This went SO much differently than I expected it to 😳 Wow ok</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He couldn’t sleep. <br/><br/></p><p>He had tried to, and he should be tired, especially with the amount of time that he had spent texting Tubbo.</p><p> </p><p>It was weird, because Tommy hadn’t truly thought about it, really. <br/><br/></p><p>He hadn’t thought about staying up all night and listening to his parents scream at each other, losing hours of sleep. <br/><br/></p><p>He hadn’t thought about the way that he scratched himself had gotten increasingly worse. <br/><br/></p><p>He hadn’t thought about the way the hate comments hit home, especially one in particular. <br/><br/></p><p>
  <em>Lol, even the Dream Team thinks you’re annoying. Way to set a new record :p</em>
</p><p> </p><p>He hadn’t thought about the way his hand hovered over Dream’s contact one night, a night where it’s all too much, the hate is too much, suddenly desperate to call the man and be told that it wasn’t true and that he could actually stand him. <br/><br/></p><p>But then, that would be wishful thinking. <br/><br/></p><p>That would be what he wanted to hear. What he wanted Dream to think about him. <br/><br/></p><p>Not what Dream himself truly thought. <br/><br/></p><p>If anything, Dream was overall a very honest person. <br/><br/></p><p>He wasn’t heartless, but he didn’t tend to exactly sugarcoat either. <br/><br/></p><p>He puts the cards on the table. <br/><br/></p><p>With that being said, Dream would have no problem telling Tommy the truth. <br/><br/></p><p>And that truth was that Dream saw him in the exact same light as everyone else. <br/><br/></p><p>Annoying. <br/><br/></p><p>Pain in the ass. <br/><br/></p><p>Rude. <br/><br/></p><p>Loud. <br/><br/></p><p>Frustrated tears burning in his eyes, he chucked his phone across the room and it hit against the wall, landing onto the carpet floor but Tommy couldn’t bring himself to care, a sob escaping him as he pressed his palms to his eyes angrily. <br/><br/></p><p>“Hello?” A tired voice rang out after a minute, and Tommy swore his heart stopped for that minute. “Tommy?”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Oh my fucking God, please no. <br/></em>
</p><p>He had forgotten to exit out of Dream’s contact, and when when he had thrown his phone against the wall in a blind rage the impact must have accidentally caused Call to be pressed. <br/><br/></p><p>The teen rushed over so fast, picking up his phone, “S—Sorry, that was an accident, didn’t mean t—to wake ya, Big D.” He cringed at how his voice cracked in several places and how raw his voice sounded, praying Dream didn’t pick up on it. <br/><br/></p><p><em>Of course</em>, unfortunately for him, the man did. <br/><br/></p><p>Dream perked up, sounding more awake on the other end, “You’re good, I was already up. Was gonna head to bed in twenty.” <br/><br/></p><p>He paused, “You okay? You don’t sound too hot.” There were clicking sounds in the background, possibly his mouse or keyboard or both.</p><p> </p><p>”Y—Yeah, I’m fine, why do you ask?” Maybe if he brushed it off Dream would get the hint that he didn’t need to pretend that he cares. <br/><br/></p><p>“Tommy.” In a minute, Dream had switched from his light nonchalant voice to the serious tone he rarely ever used. “You sound like shit, what’s going on?” <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy bit his lip, tensing. He didn’t answer, looking down at his lap. He began to shake and shiver as his eyes burned. <br/><br/></p><p>“Toms,” Dream said again, voice softer, “You know you can talk to me, right?”</p><p> </p><p>And apparently that had been the thing to break the dam, because he hadn’t even realized that his breathing had turned erratic, choking on sobs and whimpers and tears until he heard Dream’s voice, the clicking in the background ceasing. <br/><br/></p><p>“Hey, hey hey, easy Kid, you’re okay.” His voice was gentle, soothing. Loving. A tone that he rarely even used with George or Sapnap, a tone that he reserves for situations like these when it’s needed. </p><p> </p><p>”You’re gonna be okay, I promise.” <br/><br/></p><p>“Toms, I need you to copy my breathing, can you do that, bud?” <br/><br/></p><p>Another whimper escapes him, but after a minute he breathes in slowly, feeling slight relief when he feels something actually entering his lungs, and copied as Dream exagerrated his breathing on the other side of the phone. <br/><br/></p><p>“There you go. You’re doing good, you’re good, just keep copying, alright Tommy?”</p><p> </p><p>”O—Okay.” Tommy rasped out weakly. <br/><br/></p><p>After a couple of more minutes, Tommy’s irregular breathing slows down, his sobs die and he’s sniffling, still sucking in shaky breaths. <br/><br/></p><p>“You with me?” Dream asks. <br/><br/></p><p>“Y—Yeah.” <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy’s wet cheeks are flushed with humiliation. As if his life couldn’t get any worse. <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“S—Sorry.” Tommy sniffled, wiping his remaining tears away in embarrassment and disgust.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy, you have nothing to be sorry for.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And the sentence itself was so genuine that Tommy almost believed him. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"><em>Almost</em>. <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wanna tell me what that was about?” Dream asks.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">”I—It’s just a lot.” He mutters after going silent for a minute. </span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What is?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">”Everything.” He starts to tear up again, but he pushes them down for the sake of his remaining pieces of dignity. </span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">You’ve been a pissbaby enough for one night.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">”So, what you on overload?” </span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Somethin’ like that.” He mutters, then against his better judgement adds heavily, “‘m so fuckin’ tired, Dre.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">On the other end, Dream goes silent for a minute as the boy leans his head against the wall behind him. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He doesn’t hear any more clicking sounds, and assumes that Dream wasn’t even on his computer anymore, giving the teen his full attention. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He hears the man’s chair squeak as he leans back in it. </span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy,” the older blonde says, and this time the concern is out in the open, lacing his tone, “You need to take a break.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">”But—“ Tommy instantly begins to protest, only to be cut off. </span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy, listen to yourself man, you sound exhausted and I bet you look exhausted. You just had a fucking Panic Attack, you <em>literally</em> just admitted to feeling like crap. You obviously aren’t your best right now, which means it’s not a good time to be streaming and all that other stuff. I’m sure still talking to your friends won’t hurt, but as far as posting goes you’ll be happy that you took a break when you feel better.” <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">I haven’t felt better for a while now. <br/></span> </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But of course Tommy doesn’t say that, instead mumbling, “Yeah...okay, Big Man.” <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Want me to stay on for a bit?” </span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The boy hesitates, wanting to say yes, but feeling selfish. “I, uhh....I don’t want to make you feel like you...have to. Weren’t you gonna go to bed?” </span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s fine.” Dream says, genuinely meaning it. “I don’t care.” <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay.” <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Dream smiles at the hidden happiness in the younger’s tone. </span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So they talk for a while, about different things, from Minecraft to Streams to Tommy complaining about one of his apparently “fucking bitchy as shit” professors, causing Dream to wheeze a few times.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">An hour and a half later, he speaks up lightly when Tommy lets out a big yawn, “It’s late, how about you try to get some sleep?” <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The Brit hesitates for a moment then says, “Yeah, okay. G’night, Big D.” <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Night. Oh and Tommy?” <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah?” </span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Take care of yourself, okay Kid? I care about you.” <br/></span>
</p><hr/><p class="p1">“<em>Dream</em>!” <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">Said man startled awake, eyes shooting open and jumping forwards only to groan in pain as he knocked his knees into his desk.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">”Damn it.” He grumbled in frustration. <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">“Whoa, you good?” Tubbo asked in concern. <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">Dream looked up at the picture of Tubbo on the call and the rest of the Sleepy Bois. <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">“Yeah. Sorry, fell asleep.” He muttered. <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">“It’s okay.” Wilbur said, stretching in his seat. “We were actually just talking about calling it a night. I don’t like it, but we haven’t come up with shit.” He sounded irritated at the end, sleep deprivation kicking in. <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">“We’ll be able to focus better when we’re not two seconds away from passing out.” Techno states bluntly.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">”Yeah.” Dream mumbled again.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">His last conversation with Tommy had been five weeks ago. He hadn’t heard from the boy since. <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">Nobody had. <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">More importantly, nobody knew why. And that worried them. <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">“Take a break”. He had said. That’s <em>all</em> he said. <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">Not “And hey Tommy, feel more than free after your break to cut off all communication from the entire fucking server and disappear from the face of the Earth”. What the fuck. What the actual fuck. <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">What the hell is going on? <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">When Tommy had announced his break, he had stated it would be for two weeks at most. <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">Everyone, if not slightly concerned, had been fine with that. <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">Until it stretched past two weeks and he hadn’t answered DMs from any of them. <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">Why was Tommy doing this? Was something wrong? Did they do something wrong? Was what was going on even his own doing? <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">“Right.” He said, snapping himself out of his own thoughts. “Well, g’night guys.” <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">The others choursed “Goodnight” in return and he logged off the call.</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">Dream sighed, leaning back in his chair and looking down as Patches mewed as she jumped onto his lap. <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">“Hey.” He mumbled, running a hand through her fur before sighing shakily, hugging her and pressing his face into her back. <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">“What the <em>fuck</em>, Tommy?” <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">That was the question. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This literally went differently from what I originally planned...but I wanted some h/c content between Dream and Tommy, even if it was just briefly and it went right back to him suffering after. I needed it. Sue me</p><p>To avoid confusion, the beginning of the Chapter until Dream talking to Wilbur and the Sleepy Bois was, as stated, five weeks ago. Not present time. </p><p>Next chapters will focus on what’s been going on :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tommy sniffled loudly, slamming his phone down onto his sheets. </p><p>His fingers fell limply from their position clenched in his hair, moving to claw and scratch violently at his skin. </p><p>He felt nothing. </p><p>This isn’t enough. He needs to feel something. Anything. He needs to.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just a reminder I do not condone or encourage ANY kind of self harm mentioned in this story, it is purely for writing purposes and if you need it PLEASE seek help at </p><p>1 (800) 366-8288</p><p>You are loved </p><p>Thank you and enjoy!</p><p>(Also nothing but heavy angst ahead, including trigger warnings such as; blood, graphic Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Abuse and Suicidal Thoughts)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>(Five weeks prior) </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Tommy had to admit it felt good not to be tied down to his Youtube Career. <br/><br/></p><p>Don’t get him wrong, he truly did love it, but it was hard to not let people being assholes sour his mood, especially lately. It made things uncomfortable and stressful. <br/><br/></p><p>So he was happy that he was on break from it all. <br/><br/></p><p>He was also grateful that it was still Winter, because it was the perfect excuse for constantly wearing long sleeves lately. <br/><br/></p><p>Before things had turned as shitty as they were, he usually wore just t-shirts with jackets over them. <br/><br/></p><p>But now he either wore long sleeved t-shirts or warm, fluffy sweatshirts. <br/><br/></p><p>He refused to take them off even if it got a little warm.</p><p> </p><p>Tommy wanted to keep his scratches hidden.</p><p> </p><p>He yawned largely as he scratched at his eye. <br/><br/></p><p>Sleep had been difficult lately, with the combination of his parents’ arguing and nightmares.</p><p> </p><p>At least neither of them were taking any jabs at him. <br/><br/></p><p>He didn’t want to bet on it, though. His lucky streak with his parents laying off always ended eventually. <br/><br/></p><p>Regardless, he was going to enjoy it while it lasted.</p><p> </p><p>The couple weren’t there right now, something about “going to get some shit done, don’t destroy the house”. <br/><br/></p><p>Whatever. <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy set his phone down, standing up from his desk and stretching, feeling satisfaction as his joints cracked and popped. <br/><br/></p><p>The day went by with him doing nothing but scrolling on his phone. <br/><br/></p><p>When night came, he thanked God above that his parents silently ate in the other room with no bickering or screaming. <br/><br/></p><p>It was around eleven and he let out a small yawn, scrolling on old shit on his Twitter just for the hell of it because he was bored. <br/><br/></p><p>His thumb came to a halt and he swallowed thickly at the comments that gazed back at him on the thread announcing his break. <br/><br/></p><p>
  <em>What, can’t take the heat? <br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>Thank Goodness lol, so fucking annoying and loud. <br/><br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>Bet Dream’s relieved, omg why did he even invite you onto the server in the first place? </em>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em>Probably pitied him, lmao. <br/><br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>I would hate the shit out of that little brat if I were him. I feel bad that Dream has to deal with him. </em>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em>Poor Dream Team, must’ve been such a nuisance to deal with on their stream. <br/><br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>Nobody even likes him anyways. He’s such a dick to everyone, especially Tubbo. Why does anyone even hang with him? Ugh. <br/><br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>I hope Dream removes him from the server soon. God, can’t stand him. </em>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em>Guarantee that Dream Team and everyone else wishes this break was permanent.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>There were unfortunately many more, but he couldn’t bare to look at them. <br/><br/></p><p>With shaky hands he shut his phone off, ignoring the way something wet dripped onto the screen. <br/><br/></p><p>He sniffled, slamming his phone face down onto the sheets. <br/><br/></p><p>He clawed at his hair, whimpers stuck in his throat. <br/><br/></p><p>His fingers fell from his hair to scratch at his skin. He didn’t feel anything. He felt numb. <br/><br/></p><p>It wasn’t enough. <br/><br/></p><p>
  <em>This isn’t real enough. <br/><br/></em>
</p><p>Gasping lightly for air, he climbed out of his bed and opened his door, carefully stepping into the world outside. <br/><br/></p><p>He entered the kitchen and silently pulled out the drawer, rummaging as quietly as he could because as much as his parents were heavy sleepers, one too loud of a sound he would be dead and he wasn’t up for a beating right now. <br/><br/></p><p>Pulling out what he was looking for, he caressed the sharp edge. <br/><br/></p><p>
  <em>This is perfect. <br/></em>
</p><p>Cautiously shutting the drawer, he made his way back to his bedroom. <br/><br/></p><p>The teenager swallows, sucks in a breath because he knows it’s going to hurt. <br/><br/></p><p>He bites back a sob as the blade of the knife is pressed into his skin. Fuck. The pain is searing. <br/><br/></p><p>
  <em>Down the road, not across the street. <br/><br/></em>
</p><p>He stops when he feels like he can’t take it anymore and decides to look at the mess he’s made.</p><p> </p><p>It was a clear line, straight across and hard, and the slit was slightly above his vein. It wasn’t too deep, but deep enough for the blood that emitted from it to be a shade darker than the normal bright red he saw when he got paper cuts or banged his leg hard and scrapped it up pretty good. It was like the shade of a garnet colour. <br/><br/></p><p>The blood itself ebbs away from the wound almost like that of a tide receding with it’s pursuit towards the land, dripping big dots onto the floor and creating a small puddle. <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy finds himself <em>smiling</em>, because yes, he can feel this, he can feel the sharp ache in his arm, how it screams out in pain and begs to be sedated. <br/><br/></p><p>It takes a minute or two for it to hit him, but once it does his smile drops and his throat becomes constricted because he realizes, <em>oh God he’s fucked up</em>. <br/><br/></p><p>He’s <em>so</em> fucked up, because here he is <em>causing pain</em> to himself and he’s <em>enjoying</em> it. <br/><br/></p><p>Normal teenagers found joy and amusement in dirty jokes. Teasing friends. Funny memes or going out to parties and screaming and yelling until the sun came up. <br/><br/></p><p>He found joy in hurting himself. He wasn’t normal, far from, he was a <em>fucking freak</em>. <br/><br/></p><p>It’s embarrassing, it’s horrifying and disgusting but he <em>likes it because it’s the only thing that makes him feel something, that makes him feel real</em>. <br/><br/></p><p>He finally allows a sob to escape him. <br/><br/></p><p>
  <em>Christ, he’s fucking pathetic isn’t he?</em>
</p><hr/><p>
  <em>(Four weeks prior)</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Tommy spat out blood as his father delivered a heavy blow to his jaw not hard enough to cause any damage, but hard enough to make it hurt, and as he falls to the floor he receives a kick to his side and another to his abdomen.</p><p> </p><p>He was no stranger to these drunken beatings. <br/><br/></p><p>His father coming home and deciding to get pissed off at his ass for no reason and take his frustrations out on him. <br/><br/></p><p>He was used to it. <br/><br/></p><p>“You’re a fucking useless little bastard, you know that?” His father snarled, stomping down  on the boy’s back causing him to let out a pained groan through gritted teeth. <br/><br/></p><p>“Ungrateful little fucker!” <br/><br/></p><p>“Worthless kid!”</p><p> </p><p>”Dumbass little shit!” <br/><br/></p><p>“We would be so goddamn happy if you weren’t here!” <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy coughed, being unable to do anything except take the blows and listen to his father’s cruel words. <br/><br/></p><p>Retaliation in the past had merely made things worse, so what the hell could he do except lie there and take it? <br/><br/></p><p>After a few minutes the beatings stopped, and only his father’s breathless grumbles remained. <br/><br/></p><p><em>‘Feel better?’ </em> He thought bitterly, limbs shaking uncontrollably against his will. <em>‘Does beating your son, your own flesh and blood make you feel like a fucking man?’</em></p><p> </p><p>He bites his tongue, watching as his father turns his back on him and winces as he drops the bottle of whiskey carelessly, liquid within and glass shards spilling everywhere onto the floor.<br/><br/></p><p>“Wish you were never born, pathetic little wretch.” </p><p><br/>Tommy lays there for a minute or five, and once the man turns the corner and the teen is sure that he’s gone, he mutters, “You and me both, old man.”</p><p> </p><p>He grunts, sitting up and winces, feeling where he was struck at already beginning to bruise. <br/><br/></p><p>Thoughtlessly, he crawls over to where the mess his father made was. He needed to numb himself. <br/><br/></p><p>He cautiously grabbed a shard of glass and without hesitation cuts into his thigh, his father’s words ringing in his head. <br/><br/></p><p>
  <em>Ungrateful little fucker </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Useless little bastard </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Wish you were never born </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> <b>worthless worthless worthless worthless worthless worthless i hate myself i hate myself i fucking hate myself fucking pathetic—</b> </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Too lost in his screaming thoughts and distraught with emotion, his finger slips and he cuts too deep into his flesh, and it’s the pain that snaps the boy out of it, blanching at what he had accidentally done. <br/><br/></p><p>The wound was far too deep, way more deep than he had intended it to be and it was dripping mahogany liquid at an alarmingly quick pace, running down the rest of his leg. <br/><br/></p><p>He panics, getting up and limping away because it hurt to bad, he hadn’t meant to cut that deep truly, he doesn’t want to die. <br/><br/></p><p>
  <strike>Just yet</strike>
</p><p> </p><p>Swallowing thickly, he pressed the abrupt thought back and scrambled towards his bathroom to stop the bleeding and winces, swearing under his breath as a new painful sensation sets in, this time in his right foot and he looked down to see that due to not looking where he was going, he had stepped on the other pieces of glass and got them lodged into his foot, already collecting blood. <br/><br/></p><p>
  <em>Of fucking course</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Scoffing in annoyance, he made sure to avoid the rest of the shards before picking up his pace. <br/><br/></p><p>In his bathroom, he has a cloth pressed firmly against his thigh, biting his lip in pain and anger. <br/><br/></p><p>
  <em>You could just let yourself bleed out. <br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>Nobody would notice</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Nobody would give a fuck</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Your parents wouldn’t shed a tear</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>They’d be relieved </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>They’d dance on your grave</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Just get it over with</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>You’re nothing but an annoying piece of shit and that’s all you’ll ever be</em>
</p><p> </p><p>With gritted teeth and wet eyes Tommy wills his thoughts to <em>shut up </em>as he presses a second cloth to his thigh and feels relieved when the blood doesn’t seep through it. <br/><br/></p><p>It takes a few minutes but Tommy pulls the cloths back and winces. <br/><br/></p><p>The cut—more like a gash— is no longer bleeding, but it was dark and deep and would more than likely leave a scar. <br/><br/></p><p>Honestly it looked more like an incision rather than an accidental wound. <br/><br/></p><p>Moving on Tommy focuses on his foot and pulls out tweezers from the med kit that he had to provide for himself on his own because he wasn’t worth his parents’ money. Or time. Or love. Or their anything. <br/><br/></p><p>He proceeds to carefully pull each shard out, wincing at how it ripped the skin slightly and the last one was the deepest and most painful, causing dark blood to seep out and run down his foot. He quickly wipes it, applies some pressure to the wounds that the now bloody shards had left and wraps his foot and thigh up carefully with some gauze. <br/><br/></p><p>He had to learn this stuff on his own. His parents had never bothered to teach him how to take care of injuries. The Internet had been his best friend, he had learned, memorized and went from there. <br/><br/></p><p>“Suck it up”. They had said. “Grow up”. They had said. “It’s just a little splinter, deal with it on your own.” They had said. <br/><br/></p><p>Yeah, okay thanks <em>Mom and Dad. <br/><br/></em></p><p>Tommy exhaled, putting the supplies back in the med kit and placing it back under his sink.</p><p>He then proceeded to simply sit there, leaning his weight against the wall. <br/><br/></p><p>The teen wondered if playing Minecraft would be enough to make him feel better. <br/><br/></p><p>Or maybe he should just go to sleep. <br/><br/></p><p>And never wake up. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>He’s so sick of this. </p><p>Of losing himself over and over again. </p><p>His parents have done enough damage to him and he’s so fucking over it. </p><p>He’s getting out of this hellhole, and he’s doing it now.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Heavy Angst and Hurt no comfort! Trigger Warnings; Graphic Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Mental/Physical Abuse, Mentioned/Hinted Domestic Abuse/Violence, Pretty Brief Attempted Sexual Assault, Panic Attacks, Anxiety Attacks</p><p>I’m currently in the process of pre-writing chapters(for this story and others I’m outlining expect more Tommy Angst arcs in future bc fucc that shit is painful but addicting to write)...but I wanted to get something posted since it’s been a minute since I’ve updated so enjoy :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>(Three weeks prior) </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Tommy doesn’t view things the way that he once used to. <br/><br/></p><p>The idea of streams once he returns from his break no longer excites him, and texting Tubbo or anyone else takes more energy than it ever has out of him. <br/><br/></p><p>His eyes are dull and faded, no longer sparkling with vitality and enthusiasm.</p><p> </p><p>Most of the time he just lays in bed, either scrolling through things on his phone or sleeping. <br/><br/></p><p>“Tommy!” <br/><br/></p><p>His father’s voice wakes him up from his current nap, and he lets out an annoyed whine as he climbs out from under his comforter, nevertheless steps out of the room. <br/><br/></p><p>“Yes?” He mumbles, clearing his throat at realising how raspy he sounded.</p><p> </p><p>His father points to the trash can, hand shaking with fury. <br/><br/></p><p>“Are you fucking kidding me!? This was supposed to be empty five hours ago!” <br/><br/></p><p>The boy glanced in the direction before gazing back at his father. <br/><br/></p><p>“But, you didn’t even tell me to do that!” Tommy protested weakly.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t give me that bullshit excuse, Tommy. You should know by now that we expect all the trash out by noon. And it’s <em>four</em>.” <br/><br/></p><p>“Fine, I’ll just do it now.” <br/><br/></p><p>“No Tommy.” His father said, blocking his way when the teen attempted to walk over and Tommy sighed tiredly. “You’ve really been pissing me the fuck off lately, if you can’t do something as simple as take out the trash then you can do without dinner tonight.”  <br/><br/></p><p>“But Dad, I’m <em>starving</em>! I haven’t had shit all day—“ </p><p> </p><p>“You should have thought about that before you ignored your obligation.” <br/><br/></p><p>“I didn’t—<em>you</em> didn’t—ugh!” <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy threw his arms in the air, turning and storming off. <br/><br/></p><p>“Yeah that’s right, stomp off like the petty little fuck you are!” His father called after him. “It’s a miracle that you even still have friends, if I knew you as a friend I would have thrown your ass to the wind by now!!” <br/><br/></p><p>The blonde paused, breath getting caught in his throat. He sniffled, exhaling shakily and making his way up the rest of the stairs where he spent the rest of the night in his bedroom.</p><p>He had done his best to ignore his hunger pains. He truly had.</p><p>But when another one strikes his stomach without mercy he throws his phone across his bed in frustration. <br/><br/></p><p>Fuck it. He needs food, and he doesn’t give a shit about what his father says. <br/><br/></p><p>With that thought firmly set in place he gets off his bed and tries to as quietly as possible sneak down the stairs and into the kitchen. <br/><br/></p><p>He goes into the fridge and the sight of so much food was nearly enough to make his stomach grumble. <br/><br/></p><p>However just as he reached for something, the fridge door suddenly got slammed on his fingers abruptly and Tommy lets out a sharp yelp and turns to see his mother standing there with an enraged expression and Tommy whimpers, “M—Mum?” <br/><br/></p><p>“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” His mother demanded. <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy desperately tried to pull his fingers out of the closed door, failing to do so, “M—Mom, my hand—“ </p><p> </p><p>“Oh sorry darling~” His mother cooed in a fake loving tone, and begins to pull the door back open only to slam it once again causing Tommy to let out a choked sob involuntarily as his mother says, “Is that better?” <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy’s eyes water, tears dripping onto his cheeks as he trembles. <br/><br/></p><p>His mother rolls her eyes as Tommy pants, trying to catch his breath due to the hot agony running through his fingers.  <br/><br/></p><p>“Don’t be so dramatic Tom, you are such a fucking baby I swear to Christ.” She grinds out as she opens the fridge door once again and Tommy instantly snatches his hand to his chest, managing to wriggle his fingers weakly.</p><p> </p><p>Miraculously, they’re not broken but it hurts like hell to move them. <br/><br/></p><p>“Tommy you fucking know damn good and well that you’re not allowed to get food without our permission” his mother snarls, and he looks up at her. <br/><br/></p><p>“But that’s <em>ridiculous</em>! I didn’t even get to eat earlier! I haven’t had anything all day! I should be able to eat when I want to! This is my house too!” <br/><br/></p><p>“No” His mother growls. “You live under our roof and you will do what we say. You may live here but do you pay the bills? No. We do. That makes this <em>our</em> house. As far as not eating goes it sounds to me that it’s your fault, and I will make sure that your disobedience does not go unpunished. Your father will deal with you.” <br/><br/></p><p>“You know what!? No!” Tommy attempts to protest. “That’s <em>lutacris</em>! I can’t even get food in my own house!? I fucking live here too! You guys barely even feed me <em>shit</em>, and now that I’m trying to get some so I don’t goddamn starve I get threatened to get beaten by that assho—“ </p><p> </p><p>He’s cut off, a choked gasp escaping him as suddenly two hands are gripping his throat all too tightly and being shoved against the fridge where he looks fearfully into his mother’s heated and scornful gaze. “We are getting <em>really</em> tired of your nonsense.” She growls, like that of a ravenous, vicious dog. She squeezes a little tighter, her nails digging into the boy’s throat hard enough to draw blood, hell maybe it did a little. <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy gags and chokes, some slightest bit of saliva running down the side of his chin. Just as he felt his vision tunnel his mother lets go and backs up and everything brightens up again, Tommy falls to the floor coughing uncontrollably as his chest rose and fell rapidly while he forces air back into his lungs shakily, eyes wide and panicky and fresh tears run down his cheeks, gulping lungfuls of air as he clutches the front of his shirt. <br/><br/></p><p>“Why can’t you just learn to behave?” <br/><br/></p><p>He hears his mother say distantly and as he swallows he’s forced to look into her eyes as she cups his chin rather roughly. She’s knelt in front of him, expression sending a chill down his spine. <br/><br/></p><p>That false look of affection makes him feel sick. <br/><br/></p><p>“If you were better maybe then you’d be worthy of our love. Such a fucking shame.” Her expression hardened. “We’re embarrassed to be related to a child as awful as you. Can’t even show his parents a little grattitude? <em>Tsk</em>. Such a terrible person you are, Tommy. Awful. Goddamn rotten.” <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy’s chest seized painfully at each insult thrown at him. <br/><br/></p><p>Is that really how he is? How he’s viewed? Do the members of the SMP Server see him in the exact same shitty light? <br/><br/></p><p>He’s pulled back into reality at his mother unkindly letting go of his chin and standing up. <br/><br/></p><p>“I <em>expect </em>you to behave when our friends are over tonight.” </p><hr/><p>The one thing that Tommy genuinely likes about get togethers like these was he actually gets to <em>eat</em>.  <br/><br/></p><p>A full on meal, not morsels or left overs. And they actually made food that he likes. <br/><br/></p><p>On the other hand he absolutely hated the fact that he had to wear formal attire. <br/><br/></p><p>Seriously, a suit? They were friends not the supreme court, fucking hell. <br/><br/></p><p>He stops fumbling with his tie at his father’s glare. <br/><br/></p><p>Ugh. It’s too tight, dammit. <br/><br/></p><p>The teen walked over to the man not even ten minutes later after he gestured for him to come over. <br/><br/></p><p>“We have a lot of important people over.” His father stated coldly, shoving the stack of plates into the boy’s chest abruptly causing him to fumble and nearly drop them. <br/><br/></p><p>“Yes, <em>sir</em>.” Tommy riposted, muttering the last part sarcastically under his breath. <br/><br/></p><p>It lacked it’s usual snark, tone dull and colorless. <br/><br/></p><p>He pokes and prods at his food for a few minutes, half-asleep before sliding it into his mouth satisfying his empty stomach. <br/><br/></p><p>The boy’s laying on the couch, scrolling through random things on his phone after clearing the table for everyone and they’re all chatting. <br/><br/></p><p>“Tommy.” He hears his father distantly call for him so he peers over the arm with tired eyes. <br/><br/></p><p>“Yeah?” <br/><br/></p><p>“You know—“ his dad says the person’s name way too fast so he can’t catch it. </p><p> </p><p>“You remember him, right?” Tommy does. He nods. “Go into the garage and help him get more crates of beer.” <br/><br/></p><p>“Okay.” He yawns. <br/><br/></p><p>Granted, Tommy really doesn’t know much about Mr. What’s-his-name. He remembers him alright. He remembers that he is pretty weird. He tries to maintain a conversation with the teen as they enter the garage, Tommy listening a little uncomfortably and giving small replies. <br/><br/></p><p>His awkward laugh at the man’s next abrupt comment is cut off by another slightly longer yawn. <br/><br/></p><p>The man raises a brow at him with an amused smirk. “You don’t get a lot of sleep, do you kid?” <br/><br/></p><p>“That fucking obvious?” <br/><br/></p><p>“You almost faceplanted into the goddamn mashed potatoes earlier.” <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy chortles, bending down. “What? School sucks ass.” he settles on.  <br/><br/></p><p>It’s silent as he bends over for the beer crate, however before he’s able to grip at it properly he feels a hand on his back. He finds it weird at first, but tries not to pay it much mind , that is until he’s beginning to pick the crate up that he feels the hand slide lower and lower, beginning to rub and he drops the crate, pulling away and spinning around. <br/><br/></p><p>“Wh—What the <em>fuck</em> do you think you’re <em>doing</em>??” he snarls, cheeks flushed in humiliation. <br/><br/></p><p>“Don’t be such a joykill kid.”  The man grinned licking his lips in a way that made Tommy want to puke. “Just let it happen.” <br/><br/></p><p>“Get the hell away from me” Tommy hisses, tries to run only for the back of his collar to get snagged and he gets thrown against the extra fridge behind him that they have in here. <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy winces at the newfound pain, then grunts as his arms are pinned to either side and the man ignores his struggles, but all it takes is for one touch down there and a disgusting, slobbery kiss to the side of his face to set him off. <br/><br/></p><p>Nope. Nope nope fucking <em>nope</em>. <br/><br/></p><p>He pulls his leg up and kicks the man <em>hard</em> in his crotch, causing the man to yelp in agony and stumble backwards and Tommy delivers a strong punch to his stomach, then kicks him in the shin for extra measure, knocking him to the ground. <br/><br/></p><p>“Go to hell you sick prick.” Tommy smirks at him, spatting saliva at his feet in disgust as he writhes on the ground in pain, before running out of the garage. <br/><br/></p><p>Of course his parents would be friends with a fucking Pedo. Just his luck. <br/><br/></p><p>He still feels shaky so he re-enters the living room and exits out the front door, slipping away without being noticed. <br/><br/></p><p>The blonde didn’t want to be there right now. <br/><br/></p><p>He wandered around remembering to make sure to watch where he was going so he doesn’t trip and make a dumbass out of himself. <br/><br/></p><p>The boy let out a frustrated sigh as he yanked off his tie in anger, clenching it in his fist. <br/><br/></p><p>He barely registered the voice behind him. <br/><br/></p><p>“No, <em>don’t</em>—<em>oh</em>, look out!”</p><p> </p><p>Tommy turned with a raised brow, but let out a yelp as a small weight hit his chest rather roughly causing him to get knocked to the ground. <br/><br/></p><p>Then, there’s something wet sliding across his face repeatedly and suddenly he’s laughing because he knows what it is and as soon as he opens his eyes he’s proved to be right as staring back at him is a tiny what he recognizes to be yellow lab pup with big brown eyes and a wet black nose, tail wagging and a paw placed on the teen’s chest as the puppy licks him again, Tommy lets out a small giggle. <br/><br/></p><p>“Oh my goodness I’m so sorry, are you alright?” </p><p> </p><p>“I’m fine.” Tommy automatically answers, looking up at the person leaning over him in concern. <br/><br/></p><p>“I’m sorry, he’s very affectionate but it’s rare for him to be that way towards strangers.” They say as they help him onto his feet. <br/><br/></p><p>The person is a woman, Tommy notes now that he can see more clearly, with ginger hair and green eyes that remind him of Dream’s. <br/><br/></p><p>The pup merely jumps up again, leaning it’s paws against Tommy’s chest and Tommy laughs. <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy looks up, grinning a little shakily, “Can—Can I pet it?” He asked hopefully. <br/><br/></p><p>“Of course you can!” The woman riposted kindly, tossing him a bright smile. She had a Southern accent that made Tommy feel warm inside for some reason. “Help yourself!” <br/><br/></p><p>“Th—Thanks.” It was so humiliating. Stuttering and tripping over his words, not every word luckily but still, had become a regular routine. Tommy was embarrassed by it, but he couldn’t help it he was so used to being on edge and never raising his voice above a certain volume. <br/><br/></p><p>He smiled as the dog turned his head to the side in an adorable fashion as Tommy scratched the pup behind it’s ears. <br/><br/></p><p>“His name’s Max.” The woman offered and Tommy looked up at her. “My name’s Rosemarí.” She held her hand out. <br/><br/></p><p>He shook her hand. “T—Tommy.” <br/><br/></p><p>“Tommy? Oh my God, I <em>knew</em> you looked familiar. Tommy as in <em>TommyInnit</em>??”</p><p> </p><p>”You’ve watched me?” <br/><br/></p><p>“Oh hell yeah, I’ve seen you a couple of times with my baby brother—he’s your age, by the way we have a eight year age gap—but holy shit, it’s so cool to meet you in real life.” <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy smiled. <br/><br/></p><p>“Oh I have no idea why I’m asking, you probably have so much to do, but would you like to sit with me and Max for a little bit?” <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy’s smile grew weakly. “It—It’s fine, I don’t have anything right now.” <br/><br/></p><p>“Oh, wonderful! Well have a seat!!” <br/><br/></p><p>The blonde did just that, walking over to the nearby bench with the duo, sitting down and Max jumped up with a small bark and sprawled himself across Tommy’s lap.  <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy melted. <br/><br/></p><p>“He really likes you.” Rosemarí chuckles softly. “You must remind him of my brother, Max really loves him.” <br/><br/></p><p>She raised a brow at him. “Do you have any pets?” <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy’s smile faltered a little. “Uhh, no.” He swallows. “I, uhm...my parents don’t allow any pets.” <br/><br/></p><p>
  <strike>You don’t deserve a pet. </strike>
</p><p>
  <em>“Mum, please.” Tommy choked brokenly, vision blurred by big tears. “I’ll do it next time, I won’t forget please don’t take her.” he begs.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>His mother scoffed at him, tone cruel and cold. “Don’t give me that bullshit, Thomas. I already told you what would happen if you fucked up again. A kid like you doesn’t deserve a pet when he can’t even remember to do a <b>simple</b> fucking chore.” <br/><br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“But—“</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>”Do NOT backsass me. You’re lucky I’m even letting you say goodbye. Now make it quick before I change my goddamn mind.” </em>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em>Tommy sniffled, more tears running down his cheeks. He looked down. The cat had started rubbing against his leg lovingly. She looked up at him with those big innocent sapphire eyes. She placed a paw on his leg, gazing up at him and mewed softly. <br/><br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>The blonde broke, a sob escaping him as he fell to his knees and pulled the cat onto his lap, hugging her tightly as he whimpered breathlessly and the whole time she purred, rubbing against her master’s wet cheeks attempting to cheer him up, even licking the salty water away something that would usually make Tommy giggle but it only made him cry harder. <br/><br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>His mother impatiently stomped over and pulled the cat out of the boy’s arms and Tommy broke down even more, more than likely looking like a hot mess but he didn’t care one bit. </em>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em>“Mom please please please,” he sniveled frantically as he was held back roughly by his father. “Please! D—Don’t take her away, I—I love her...” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>She’s the one thing that makes him genuinely happy.  <br/></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“You should have thought about that before you decided to neglect your obligations. You have nobody to blame but yourself Tommy.” <br/><br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No!” He gasped, reaching out as his mother put his cat in the carrier. “No...Fuzzy...please...” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>He couldn’t bare to look his pet in the eyes as he heard meowing while his mother walked off with her, couldn’t bare to see the confusion in her eyes so he merely hung his head, sobbing. <br/><br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“‘m sorry...”  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Wow, that must suck.” Rosemarí frowned, snapping the teen out of his thoughts as he gazed out absentmindedly at the sunset. <br/><br/></p><p>“Yeah.” The latter chuckled humorlessly. <br/><br/></p><p>“Do you have any siblings?” <br/><br/></p><p>“I’m an only child.” <br/><br/></p><p>“I have nine.” <br/><br/></p><p>“<em>Nine</em>?” Tommy repeats, laughing in disbelief. <br/><br/></p><p>“Yup. My parents were very busy people.” <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy chuckles some more, and then they go silent. <br/><br/></p><p>Rosemarí is now petting Max, and out of the corner of his eye with a jolt, he notices that there’s some patches of black and blue on the upper part of her arm, however before he’s able to look away she notices his staring. <br/><br/></p><p>“I—I’m sorry.” he stammers, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to look, I—“ </p><p> </p><p>He’s cut off by her small chuckle. “I’m sure you can already tell, so there’s really not much of a point in hiding it.” <br/><br/></p><p>“I, uhm...am in an abusive relationship.”</p><p> </p><p>”Wow.”  <br/><br/></p><p>The word’s past his lips before he can think about it, and he mentally facepalms. <br/><br/></p><p>“Fuck I’m sorry that—that’s a really shitty way to respond.” <br/><br/></p><p>“You’re <em>fine</em>,” The woman giggles, then sobers up. “You’re just a kid and it was sprung on you, kids can’t expect to know how to react to things like that. Sorry I know it’s heavy but I could practically see you connecting the dots so I figured that there’s no point of denying or hiding it.” <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy hums, smiling at the way Max bumped his hand playfully with his nose and gave a pet, “How, um...how come you haven’t left?” He feels dumb for asking such a obvious question. <br/><br/></p><p>“Worried about what he might do. He’s a very violent man, especially when he doesn’t get his way. Made threats towards my family before, especially my baby brothers.” <br/><br/></p><p>“Oh.” <br/><br/></p><p>Rosemarí smiles and joins in on petting Max, “Besides I want his anger to be directed towards me and nobody else especially not Max. He’s never laid a finger on the baby boy and I plan on keeping it that way.”</p><p> </p><p>Tommy can understand that part. It’s still concerning nonetheless. <br/><br/></p><p>“Shoot, I better get goin’.” The woman aburptly says, standing up. She shoots him a bright grin. “It was very nice meeting you. Keep what we discussed a secret between us, yeah?” <br/><br/></p><p>“Of—Of course , I wouldn’t tell anyone. Uhm, good luck though. Really.” <br/><br/></p><p>“Thank you darlin’ you’re such a sweet kid. Good luck with whatever you’re dealing with as well. Bye now.” <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy waves back as the woman walks away, Max trailing behind and soon they’re out of sight. <br/><br/></p><p>He allows his hand to fall limply onto his lap. <br/><br/></p><p>Luck. <br/><br/></p><p>Shit.</p><p> </p><p>He’s gonna need a lot more than luck. <br/><br/></p><p>The Brit sits there for a few more minutes before deciding that he should head back home. <br/><br/></p><p>The boy gulps in anticipation as he approaches closer and closer, finding it get increasingly harder to breathe with anxiety swirling in his gut. <br/><br/></p><p>What would be awaiting him once he got there? Would he be in trouble for leaving? Did they even notice that he was gone? Could they’ve cared less? <br/><br/></p><p>He got his answer in a matter of seconds once he approached his front door. <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy reached out to grasp the doorknob, hand shaking slightly however before he was able to grip it properly the door was abruptly swung open and the very enraged figure of his father stood, glowering menacingly back at him. <br/><br/></p><p>“Get your <em>goddamn</em> ass in here, boy!” The man bit out, yanking at the latter’s shirt front and throwing him inside, slamming the door behind him. <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy coughed a little, rubbing at his throat where his shirt had rubbed a little too roughly and he winced. <br/><br/></p><p>He looked around the living room and jolted, instantly recognizing the other two people in the room. <br/><br/></p><p>One was his mother, looking equally as pissed and the other was...him, which was what made Tommy jump so hard. He stood there with a shit-eating grin, causing Tommy to look away. <br/><br/></p><p>“I’m not even going into you breaking the rule of leaving a gathering without our permission.” His father hisses irritably. “Right now, you are going to apologize to Gordon. Right this fucking minute.” <br/><br/></p><p><em>What</em>.</p><p> </p><p>”What?” Tommy voices his thoughts. “For—why the fuck am I <em>apologizing</em>?!”</p><p> </p><p>”For attacking him!” His mother riposts incredulously. <br/><br/></p><p>“Attacking....—I was bloody <em>defending</em> myself! The fucker tried to sexually harrass me!!” <br/><br/></p><p>“I would do no such thing!” Gordon snapped, but Tommy could see the glint of glee in his eyes. <br/><br/></p><p>What an asshole. <br/><br/></p><p>“Thomas I can’t believe that you would make up something so absurd!” His mother growls, and Tommy’s heart stops. <br/><br/></p><p>They...They don’t believe him? <br/><br/></p><p>They can’t be serious. <br/><br/></p><p>They’re taking <em>his</em> side over Tommy’s? <br/><br/></p><p>He knows that they hate him, but to the point where they’re willing to demonize him in a situation where he was a victim? <br/><br/></p><p>“But I’m telling the <em>truth</em>! He—He touched my ass, and my dick and—“</p><p> </p><p>And isn’t that just a punch to the gut, because deep down a part of him already knows that that’s the case. <br/><br/></p><p>“Enough Tommy, I don’t want to hear any more bullshit.”</p><p> </p><p>”Mum—“</p><p> </p><p>He’s cut off, a smacking sound ringing out into the air as his mother raises her hand and slaps her son across the face. <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy staggers backwards a little bit at the impact, holding his now red and aching cheek. <br/><br/></p><p>“Enough is <em>enough</em>.” His mother hisses out. “We will deal with your ass tomorrow.” <br/><br/></p><p>And just like that, he’s invisible. <br/><br/></p><p>“That’s such a shame, does he always pull things like these?” <br/><br/></p><p>“Oh please that little brat will do anything for clout.” <br/><br/></p><p>Warm tears welled in his eyes and spilled onto his cheeks. <br/><br/></p><p>He turned and ran up the stairs, almost falling repeatedly. <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy shuts himself off in his room and finds a nearby pillow, attempting to scream angrily into it but all that comes out is a broken, battered sob. He’s hyperventilating, gasping, shaking but he can’t stop himself. <br/><br/></p><p>His parents hate him. <br/><br/></p><p>His parents hate him. <br/><br/></p><p>
  <strike>He hates himself.</strike>
</p><p> </p><p>They wish that he was dead. <br/><br/></p><p>
  <strike>He wishes that, too. <br/><br/></strike>
</p><p>P̸͓͑̇ͅa̸̞͓̓̍i̴̹̫̣͆̿́n̵̙͂̍͜ͅ ̶̭͝p̶̩̊a̴͔͕͌i̴̝̫͌͋n̶͔̙̊͐̾ ̵͎̲̑̂p̶̠͚̞̏̄͗ḁ̴̓͌ͅį̷̯̆̿͘n̷͚͂̆ ̸̡̢̮́ṕ̶͎̦̠a̵̧̹͇̅̃i̵̝̠̱͛͌͘n̸̗̭̒̍ ̸̤͒̉̒ṕ̸̣͚̉ȁ̶̬i̴͈͎͎͒́ň̸̪́͊ ̷͚̺͒p̷͖̠͚̈́̽a̷̺̓i̶̩̚n̵͉̞̈̏͠ ̵̢͔̬̈͗p̵̪͎͎̔a̸͔͕̚ỉ̷̢̩̿͜n̷̩̎ ̴͎̮͘</p><p>H̵̝͇̀͒ḛ̸̈́ ̵̻̥̐͂n̶̫͗̉̅ȩ̵̚é̵͕̬d̵̘͍̩̊͛̚s̷̠̚͝ ̵̰͚̞̍͝p̷̗̱͛͊͐a̴̡͆ȋ̵̢̮̩͘n̷̢̦͗̀̾</p><p> </p><p>T̶̪͇̽͆̇ḧ̴͈́͜å̷̜̮̉ṯ̸̂͜’̵̡̏͝s̴̥̞͖͊̿ ̷̜̪̏ͅa̴͖̱̬̓̄̓l̶͇̃l̵̥̱̰͐̽̿ ̵̲̜̈́h̵̤͍̊e̷͈̼̿̂͝ ̶͖̅c̷̞̖͌ä̸̧́͛n̸̓ͅ ̴̛̪̜̈́͆f̶̭̍ẹ̸̰͇͌è̶̡͍l̷̘̇ ̶͕͔̫̋̂à̸̮͊́l̷̲̎l̶͎͑͝ ̷̯̦̇͝t̸̡̲̉h̶͚͝a̵͈͎̹̒̉t̸̖̤̽̂ ̵̣̅̅̉n̶͈͇̰̏u̴͓̱͆͝m̶͙̣͂̾͐b̷̢̯͋̚s̷͓͇͔̋͗ ̸͇̾ĥ̸̙̣̰̈́̉i̴̧͛̈́̎m̶̫͇̓̄͝ ̸̡̖̙́̐a̶̫͗ṇ̸͈͚̄d̷̖̮̃ ̷̙̓͠h̸͔̽͒ȇ̶̘͌ ̸̢̫̩̑͆̓n̶̝͇̋̓̕e̵̫̎̈e̴̛̠͋d̴̺́s̸̡̫̅̓͝ ̸̛̪̀̊i̶̟̠̲̇̌ţ̴̯͆̎͝</p><p> </p><p>He runs his fingers over the fresh cuts and scratches that he had given himself earlier in the night as he sits in front of his bedroom wall. <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy wonders how many times it will takw until he loses consciousness. <br/><br/></p><p>He supposes that there’s only one way to find out. <br/><br/></p><p>The blonde slams his head into the wall. He guesses it’s supposed to hurt, but he can’t feel anything so he bangs his head a second time. <br/><br/></p><p><em>Now</em> he starts to feel something. <br/><br/></p><p>He bangs again. And again. <br/><br/></p><p>The final time does the trick, because along with a wave of dizziness comes the nausea and agony and that’s the last thing he feels before he blacks out. <br/><br/></p><p>Turns out it took four times. <br/><br/></p><p>
  <strike>He’ll have to keep that in mind. <br/></strike>
</p><hr/><p>(<em>two weeks prior) </em></p><p>Tommy’s shoulders shook with each violent sob that passed his lips as he was leaned over on the floor, hands clutching at his fluffy hair. <br/><br/></p><p>It had been the worst fucking day of his life. <br/><br/></p><p>Right when he got up his parents had marched into his bedroom and without warning <em>smashed</em> his entired PC.  <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy could do nothing but stare numbly, tears running down his cheeks and screams lodged in his throat as his father hit harder and harder with each wack. <br/><br/></p><p>“Maybe now you’ll know not to make up disgusting stories about people.” His mother had said. <br/><br/></p><p>He broke when they temporarily left the room, falling to his knees as an agonizing screeching sob left his throat. <br/><br/></p><p>His computer was destroyed. Gone. <br/><br/></p><p>His escape. <br/><br/></p><p>The last thing that made him happy. The thing that connected him to good times with the people that he deeply cares about and cherishes. <br/><br/></p><p>Now here he was, locked in his closet once again with no way to get out. <br/><br/></p><p>Or at least that’s what his parents believed. <br/><br/></p><p>Once he calms down from his current panic attack and is able to <em>breathe</em> again Tommy sniffles and digs in his pocket. <br/><br/></p><p>He feels a weak smile tug at his lips once he finds what he’s looking for. <br/><br/></p><p>His stupid parents hadn’t thought to take his phone so he fishes that out of his pocket and fumbled for the flashlight feature and finally manged to turn it on after a few feeble attempts. <br/><br/></p><p>His smile grew at the hair pin that laid in the palm of his hand. <br/><br/></p><p>He had recently taken it out of his mother’s bathroom without getting noticed and he had seen this done before in the movies and yet everything in the movies was pretty much fake so there was no gurantee that this would actually work, but Tommy didn’t care. He was willing to try anything, and if this didn’t work then he’d find another way. <br/><br/></p><p>He’s so sick of this. <br/><br/></p><p>Of losing himself over and over again. <br/><br/></p><p>His parents have done enough damage to him and he’s so fucking over it. <br/><br/></p><p>He’s getting out of this hellhole, and he’s doing it now. <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy chewed his lip as he wiggled the hair pin within the lock. <br/><br/></p><p>
  <em>Please please please please please....</em>
</p><p> </p><p>The boy could have sobbed with relief when after a few attempts a ‘click’ filled the air, and as the pin fell from the lock the door creaked open. <br/><br/></p><p>“Oh thank <em>fuck</em>,” Tommy choked, shakily getting to his feet and stumbling into his bedroom, inahling uneven breaths. <br/><br/></p><p>He steadied himself and instantly went to grab a backpack, unzipping it and began filling it with necessities. Grabbed clothes off hangers from his closet, mainly long sleeved to hide his scratches and cuts, but a short sleeved or two as well in case he got hot, after all he could always wear something over it. He shoves his hoodie and a jacket into his bag. <br/><br/></p><p>He tosses his phone charger into his backpack. <br/><br/></p><p>Next Tommy sneaks downstairs as silently as possible making sure to avoid the stairs that creak. He catches himself when he’s about to jump off the last stair because the floorboard in front of the first stair <em>really</em> makes a lot of noise, hello idiot?  <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy swallows thickly as he walks over to the fridge and gently pulls it open, hand shaking slightly. He grabs a few waters and a few of his favorite snacks from both the fridge and pantry and he’s ready to get the fuck out. <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy takes a glance towards the front door and shakes his head. <br/><br/></p><p>Be smart, idiot. The front door would be way too obvious. It’s too close to his parents’ room downstairs here and it would more than likely attract their attention considering all the locks that he has to undo. <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy pads back up the stairs to his bedroom and walks over to the window. He unlocks it and grunts as he pulls it open, flinching at the squeaking sound that it makes. <br/><br/></p><p>Shit. Go go go. <br/><br/></p><p>The boy never hesitates once as he climbs out onto the roof. He glances down. He was on the second floor so there was no way that he would get down like that without hurting his feet. <br/><br/></p><p>His face lights up when he notices the tree that’s next to his bedroom window. <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy inhales and exhales deeply. <br/><br/></p><p>He lurches forward, jumping off the edge of the roof, managing to grab a thick branch with both hands and he huffs as he pulls himself up and onto it. <br/><br/></p><p>His heart’s pounding in anticipation as he carefully climbs down the tree in a rapid pace, flinching at the way his ankles cracked when he landed on the ground. <br/><br/></p><p>All it takes is for him to notice a light turn on in the house out of the corner of his eye. <br/><br/></p><p>“Tommy!” His mother’s voice rings out. <br/><br/></p><p>Said teen <em>sprints</em>. <br/><br/></p><p>His lungs burn as he runs, jumping and throwing himself over the fence and back to sprinting again the <em>minute</em> his feet hit the ground. <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy speeds down the streets of his neighborhood, keeps running, keeps running as the cold night air stings his throat but he can’t stop because he’s so fucking paranoid that they’re right behind him, struggling to breathe as he scuttles faster than he ever has. <br/><br/></p><p>He darts around corners, skidding and if anything his runner’s high that hits pushes him even more as he slips into the streets of town. <br/><br/></p><p>He keeps running until he’s certain he’s not being followed. <br/><br/></p><p>Or rather, until his legs give out. <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy goes weak, legs turning into jelly and he falls to the ground. <br/><br/></p><p>His legs tremble, his arms shake and his whole body aches, the only sound being loud gasps as his chest heaves and he’s barely able to keep himself upright, let alone pull himself together and get at least five percent of his energy back. <br/><br/></p><p>He does after a few minutes, managing to gather lungfuls of air as he pants heavily and uncontrollably and soon enough his breathing’s back to normal and he’s leaning against the wall behind him, utterly exhausted.  <br/><br/></p><p>He’s <em>free</em>. <br/><br/></p><p>Thank fucking God. <br/><br/></p><p>That’s all his tired mind can think as he weakly unzips his backpack and pulls out one of his water bottles, desperately screwing off the cap and taking long gulps. <br/><br/></p><p>He’s in an alleyway, he realizes. <br/><br/></p><p>His parents would more than likely look for him. Try to bring him back to that utter hellscape, but Tommy refuses. There’s no way that he’s ever going back with those dickheads. <br/><br/></p><p>He runs his hand over the black eye absentmindedly. The black eye that his father had given to him, along with his bruised cheek. <br/><br/></p><p>He’s <em>never</em> going back there. <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy refuses to sleep. He can’t. Not when he’s still slightly paranoid. <br/><br/></p><p>But fuck....he’s <em>so</em> tired. <br/><br/></p><p>His eyes droop heavily. <br/><br/></p><p>Maybe....just a little bit wouldn’t hurt. <br/><br/></p><p>They slipped shut. <br/><br/></p><p>..............................</p><p>Tommy was startled awake by the sound of a bunch of loud noises. <br/><br/></p><p>He knocks his head against the wall behind him, causing Tommy to groan in pain.</p><p> </p><p>”Oh fuck me.” Tommy swore in frustration, rubbing the back of his head. <br/><br/></p><p>He looked up, only to wince and shut his eyes at the brightness of the sun. <br/><br/></p><p>Wait...the sun? <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy looks up again, this time avoiding the sunlight. <br/><br/></p><p>“Holy shit...it’s <em>day</em>?” Tommy voiced his surprise, pulling out his phone and looking at the clock. <br/><br/></p><p>0:900 </p><p> </p><p>It was nine in the morning? Tommy‘s never slept in for that long. Still even with the extra sleep, he doesn’t feel all that refreshed. One night with sufficient hours of sleep wasn’t nearly enough with three days plus with only two hours of sleep. <br/><br/></p><p>He notices something else as well, something that makes him shiver. <br/><br/></p><p>
  <em>15 missed calls from Dad </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>20 missed calls from Mom </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>5 voicemails from Dad</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>8 Text Messages from Dad </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>12 text messages from Mom </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>7 voicemails from Mom </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He ignores the notifications, shoving his phone into his pocket and looking out at the bustling traffic on the roads outside of the alleyway. <br/><br/></p><p>He needs to get going. <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy gets up, stretching neck and joints cracking in satisfaction and he grabs his bag and slings it over his shoulder, stepping onto the sidewalk. </p><p> </p><p>He’s starving as shit, so he’s gonna go get some breakfast.  <br/><br/></p><p>He has enough money to pay for a few meals and snacks. He grabbed as much as he could on his way out of the house. <br/><br/></p><p>The only problem was, what happens when it runs out? Money disappears quickly in the blink of an eye, and Tommy has no idea how long he’ll be out on the streets for. He gets his cash from streaming, and his parents being the greedy bastards that they are had taken most of it from him. He wouldn’t be making any money as long as he didn’t stream. He’d get a job, but that would be after he’s less paranoid about his parents noticing him somewhere.  <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy shook his head in frustration. <br/><br/></p><p>He’ll worry about that later. <br/><br/></p><p>He stops at a nearby breakfast restaurant and orders a big meal that takes him a while to finish and refuels some of his energy, before he’s back onto the streets after leaving a generous tip.  <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy notices a while that the sky had gotten dark and looks up to see a bunch of dark clouds in the sky, a signal of incoming rain. <br/><br/></p><p>The blonde crinkled his nose. The weather in Britian could be really weird sometimes. Still, he had always loved the smell that incoming rain provided so he wasn’t totally complaining. <br/><br/></p><p>He just needs to find a dry place to rest soon.</p><p> </p><p>”Oh my God! It’s TommyInnit!!” <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy flinches, startled at the high-pitched yell and turns around, surprised to see a little girl running towards him and come to a stop at his feet. <br/><br/></p><p>“it <em>is</em> you! TommyInnit!!” She squeals happily. <br/><br/></p><p>“Umm. Hi.” Tommy says with a small smile.  <br/><br/></p><p>Someone else comes running up, slightly out of breath. “How are you so fast.” The latter demands, glaring down at the child. It’s a teenage girl close to his age. <br/><br/></p><p>“You’re just slow. Look, it’s TommyInnit!” <br/><br/></p><p>The older looks at the blonde and smiles awkwardly. “Oh my God, hi. I’ve...seen you a lot on streams and whatnot.”  <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy! Tommy, I love you!” The little girl squeals in excitement, the oldest setting her hands on her shoulders. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ginny shut up you’re going to disturb him you freak.” The brunet scoffs, rolling her eyes. “I apologise for my sister.” <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The little girl, supposedly Ginny ignores her older sibling and begs, “Can I have an autograph? Pllleeeasseeee?” <br/><br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Ginny</em>.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy feels his cheeks flush a little, “It—It’s alright, I have no problem signing.” He says with a tired chuckle. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ginny lets out a big gasp, stars in her eyes, “Reeeeaaallly!? Yayyyyy!” She pulls off her backpack and digs. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m so sorry.” The oldest apologizes again. “She loves you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"><br/>“I’ve heard.”</p><p class="p1"><br/>“She watches you, like, all the time. My parents don’t like her to because of the swearing, but she never listens.” <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy lets out another laugh, almost yawning halfway through. Fuck. Sleep. He needs more of that. Soon. And warmth maybe. It’s cold as shit. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Found it!”  <br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy can’t help the amused smile as the little girl excitedly pulls out a notebook and pen, but just as she’s holding it out and he reaches for it, two voices catch them off guard, interrupting the trio. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ginny, Lyra there you two are!”  <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We were so worried about you guys!”  <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ginny lets out a happy squeal as she’s picked up by her father and pulled to his chest, Lyra huffs and pats her parents’ back while mouthing to Tommy “dramatic much?” but she’s smiling bashfully and Tommy can’t help the pang of jealousy.   <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Where were you guys, you shouldn’t have run off!” Their father chastises.  <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We had no idea where you were, we told you not to do that after last time!” Their mother added.  <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You were the ones who got separated!” Lyra exclaimed, and before they could say anything else she quickly said, “Just be quiet, look this is TommyInnit!” <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Their mother looks towards the boy. “Oh? <em>The</em> TommyInnit? It’s very nice to meet you.” She says with a small smile.<br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Their father nods towards Tommy with a rushed smile before saying, “We’re going to be late for the meeting, let’s go.”<br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ginny’s getting a signature from him.”<br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ginny, hurry it up. Lyra we need to talk to you.”   <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“‘Kay.” Ginny replies as she hands her notebook and pen to Tommy while her family walks off to a corner. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s hand freezes as the child abruptly speaks. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“They think I don’t know.” <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy paused, looking up at the girl who he noticed was now holding her teddy beat (where did that come from? He assumed out of her bag) tightly, avoiding eye contact. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">”Mommy and Daddy. Lyri tries to hide it from me too, but I know. I overheard it one night. They’re fifty dollars short on rent, daddy’s behind on work right now, Mommy can’t find a good job, and if we don’t get the money soon then we’ll get kicked out.” <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She sniffs, attempting to look strong. “I don’t wanna go. It’s my home. But Daddy said without the money we may not have a home by Christmas.”<br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy cringed. Shit, this kid was like what eight at most and she knew about something so serious? And she seemed to handle it so maturely? What the hell? He frowned. It certainly would suck to know that a little girl this happy and cheerful could possibly be out on the cold streets in a matter of two months. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He hesitated, then reached into his back pocket. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">What the fuck. He’ll live. He’ll figure it out.<br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Seeing her distracted the teen pulled out his wallet and hurriedly grabbed some bucks out after he finishes signing his name and puts the money there, folding the paper over securely and handing it to her. “There ya go.” <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ginny snapped out of her sad mood and gasped happily. “Thank youuu Tommyy! I love youuu!” <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She threw her arms around the boy’s waist and gave a quick, affectionate squeeze before rocking back on her heels, and a pathetic part of him whined at the soft touch being gone so quickly. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She gives him a final toothy grin before waving. “Byeeeee!” <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy waved back with a weak smile as he watched her run back over to her family in the distance, ignoring the second pang of envy churning within his stomach. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The blonde turned on his own heel and walked off, shivering a little. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It definitely felt good to have someone smile so brightly at him for once and not sneer at him with disgust. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <strike> <span class="s1">(Did he deserve it, though? )<br/></span> </strike>
</p><p class="p1">
  <strike> <span class="s1">(You’re a bad kid after all) </span> </strike>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <strike> <span class="s1">(one act of generosity can’t change that.)</span> </strike>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <strike> <span class="s1">(Nothing will ever change that) </span></strike>
</p><hr/><p class="p1">
  <em>(One week prior) </em>
</p><p class="p1"><em>“</em>Awe come on Tubbo, you’re not still mad at us are you?” <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">Said teen sighed, staring at Dream’s icon.  <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">It had been frustrating but he had never actually been angry. <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">He was protective of Tommy, they all knew that, they’re like brothers.  <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">Except despite being younger Tommy was like the older one who was always there for Tubbo, but was <em>so</em> fucking stubborn and never allowed himself to be in a position for Tubbo to be able to return the favour. <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">It wasn’t just Tubbo though, he was like that across the board. <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">He’d be there for someone but doesn’t allow someone to do the same. <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">It’s so irritating.  <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">But no he wasn’t angry. He was just concerned for Tommy at the time. <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">Dream’s tone was teasing and light, but hid the tiniest bit of nervousness to it. He was a more sensitive person, he had admitted himself but he was still like his character in a certain way. He still liked to not show his emotions off too much.  <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream had actually been jugglinghanging with the Sleepy Bois lately for the past few months or so, and before any of them knew it he had been practically adopted as an extended member to the family. Tommy and Tubbo had gotten to know the man better, growing closer to him and after a while they began to see him as an extra older brother. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Of course Tommy himself would never admit this out loud and had threatened to punch Tubbo if he ever told Dream that he felt that way, hell even though Wilbur was aware of Tommy seeing the older Brit as a big brother and such, he was still stubborn about showing affection or gross heart to heart talks, Tommy had always looked up to Dream in ways but he had only started feeling closer to him on a personal level just recently, so of course he would deny anything and everything until he was blue in the face. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No.” Tubbo mumbled. “I was just worried about Tommy.” <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why though? He seemed fine.” <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He wasn’t. He had an anxiety attack after he left the stream.”  <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream inhaled roughly, and the others in the call tensed. “For...For real?”  <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah.” Tubbo confirms hesitantly. “Sometimes he has Panic too. But like, he gets anxiety attacks when he feels like things are too much. He’s had them for as long as I can remember. He accidentally had one in front of me years ago when we were about thirteen. I have an older cousin by like four years who has those, he lived with me and my family for a while before he went back to live with my uncle and aunt who were away for a while on a business trip, and he had those when he stayed here.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> They weren’t frequent, but they were bad when they happened. This was when I was eight though, so by the time what happened happened, I knew how to talk Tommy down from it. My parents left me home alone with my cousin sometimes, so they practically taught me what to do if he got triggered. That’s why I know what to do when it happens to Tommy.” <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Holy shit, we had no idea man.” Sapnap says. </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“You couldn’t have.” Tubbo riposts, reminding himself as he says this. </span> <span class="s2">They couldn’t have known</span> <span class="s1">. “He refuses to tell anyone. I could be wrong, but I’m pretty sure the only ones who knows besides me and Wilbur are Tech and Phil...maybe Ranboo...and that’s it. I’m sorry I got upset, it’s just hard to see someone go through something like that, especially if it’s Tommy.” <br/><br/></span></p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“You have nothing to be sorry for, Tubbo.” George states firmly. “You had every right to get upset, you were just being a good friend. </span> <span class="s2"><em>We’re</em></span> <span class="s1"> the shitheads here. I had no idea he would take it so hard. I should have backed off. It’s my fault.” <br/><br/></span></p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">He sounds guilty at the very end. </span> <span class="s2"> <em>He</em> </span> <span class="s1"> was the adult here, he shouldn’t be sparring with a fucking </span> <span class="s2"> <em>kid</em> </span> <span class="s1">, no matter how irritated. <br/><br/></span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Even with Dream and Sapnap, both men were younger than him by a few years, especially Sap being the youngest of the group, he had his responsibility as the oldest of the trio not to start waves, chiefly with Sapnap because as much as the Texan acted tough he was the most sensitive of the group and he took things to heart the easiest. His early days with the other man during arguments had proven that. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream was tougher, but he was next in line when it came to being sentimental and affectionate. And George, he had no idea what the hell he was. He certainly wasn’t as mushy as his friends, in fact there was a point where he was so closed off that he gagged at the thought of any sort of lovey dovey confession or action, joking or not. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And he himself may joke, may be a little mean sometimes but his friends care about and understand him enough to realize how he feels about them deep down. He trusts them to know that he loves them despite the fact that he never really says it and being asked to do so makes his face flush and eyes roll, especially Sap being the most empathetic and holy shit George just knows he’s lucky because despite his and Sapnap’s differences he’s grateful for the younger he truly is, grateful for both of them for not only accepting him but also improving him at the same time and not leaving him like others had in the past, no matter how harsh or bratty or cold he came off. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">Sometimes, he realises with another small jolt of guilt, he forgets about the fact that the certain responsibility goes for </span> <span class="s2">all</span> <span class="s1"> of the younger members in the Dream SMP, kids or not, and not just his team mates. <br/><br/></span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This is on us, too.” Sapnap cuts in, referring to him and Dream. “We could have toned it down on the teasing, we just got on a roll and got carried away, we should have chilled.” <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sap and Dream were also definitely better at owning up when they’re in the wrong. It wasn’t that George was too prideful or anything, it was because he barely knew what to say half the time in fear of making things worse.  <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sapnap didn’t handle getting yelled at very well. Playfully? That was just fine. Full throttle rage? Different story. George had found this out last year during one of their bad spats. It was over something petty, but for them it was big. The Brit couldn’t even remember what it was, but he knew it had him yelling pretty loud at the younger man, cursing involved and cheeks flushed with rage. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Their argument had passed and they made amends eventually, but George had found it out through a random conversation with Dream weeks later. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, he doesn’t take getting screamed at well.” Dream had said nonchalantly through chews of whatever the hell he was eating at the time. “When he was a kid? Uhh thirteen or some shit. ..Yeah. Anyway his mom was like with the <em>biggest</em> asshole, I mean he would scream at Sap over the <em>littlest</em> of things. I heard it once. When we—when we were just chilling, I shit you not that guy literally <em>slammed</em> Sap’s door open so—it was <em>so</em> fucking loud, George,  I can gurantee it left a goddamn crack in the wall. I don’t even remember what his fucking problem was, but he <em>roared</em> at Sap for like, <em>ten minutes straight</em>. I don’t think he abused him or anything, but I know that shithead and his mom argued a lot until the end of the relationship but I’m sure that didn’t help crap. So yeah. Don’t tell him I told you that though. Keep it between us. He doesn’t like talking about it anyways.” <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">George did just that, however he no longer yelled at Sapnap during arguments after learning what he did that day.  <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’d say something but I haven’t seen him around here for days.” Dream said, snapping George out of his thoughts.  <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Isn’t he on break?” George asked. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Was</em> on break. It was only for two weeks it should be over by now.” <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">”Then where the hell is he?” Techno voiced all their thoughts.<br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll text him.” Wilbur said, pulling his phone out.  <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s funny you say that Tommy had an attack, Tubbo.” Dream spoke. “Because that’s not the only one he had.” <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What do you mean?” Sapnap said. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The week he first went on break? The kid accidentally called me. That’s what he told me; I would’ve thought of it as nothing but he sounded like really upset so I stuck around and he had a full blown panic attack. He told me that it was all too much, that he was on overload with a bunch of shit. That’s why I told him to take a break and he agreed. I stayed up with him for a little bit and then we got off, but I haven’t talked to him since. And that was <em>weeks</em> ago.” <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Something’s wrong.” Tubbo said softly. “Tommy wouldn’t disappear like this without saying something.”  <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Maybe he’s grounded?” Techno suggested. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know him. He would have told me. He always tells me when he gets in trouble.”  <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Let’s not jump to any conclusions. Maybe he got his phone taken away before he could say anything.” <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tubbo shook his head. “Tommy’s always found a way to reach me. His parents’ laptops are connected to text messages and he’s texted me on there countless times to let me know what’s up. I haven’t heard anything from him for as long as Dream. I’m sorry but it’s different this time.” The boy said, leaving himself and everyone else with an uneasy feeling in their stomachs. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, uhh.” George spoke up suddenly, frown clear in his voice. “Check Tommy’s twitter.” <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why?” Dream asked. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Just do it.” George said, sounding irritated at whatever he was seeing. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The blonde frowned at his friend’s tone, nevertheless pulling his phone out of his pocket and opening Twitter and going to Tommy’s page. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Go to where he announced his break.” <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Dream did. He paused for a minute, then his expression changed, shifting into something more hard. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“What the </span> <span class="s2"> <em>hell</em> </span> <span class="s1">.” Dream said angrily. Some of the comments were understanding, but most of them were hate and he especially sneered at the ones that involved him. <br/><br/></span></p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Dream’s probably relieved lmao, why did he even invite him on the server in the first place? <br/></span> </em>
</p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">Probably pities him. I bet he can’t stand that little shit </span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em> <span class="s1">I bet he regrets ever inviting him on in the first place </span> </em>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This is such <em>bullshit</em>.” Dream swears irritably, hopping off Twitter and shoving his phone back in his pocket. He’d lose his cool if he read any more. How dare they talk about Tommy that way. They have no fucking right. Who the hell do they think they are?</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">”What?” Tubbo asked. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You don’t wanna know.” Sapnap muttered. Apparently he had looked too. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What are we going to do?” Wilbur questioned. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Shouldn’t we call his parents and see if there truly is anything up?” George uttered. “Wilbur don’t you have their number?” <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah I could call—“ </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“They won’t answer.” Tubbo stated. “They don’t answer a lot of calls from anyone unless it’s for work. I’ll drop by tomorrow and see what’s going on. I’ll have to go on my own though, our parents kinda...clash.” <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Nobody asked. Nobody protested. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Tommy getting shit talked by people about being “transphobic” was a buncha bullshit and nobody can ever change my mind about that, he’s literally just a kid like fuck off people jc </p><p>Be careful guys there are a lotta hounds out there 🙄 toxic assholes who will stir up any crap just for attention, so be careful on any kind of Social Media whether it’s in writing (especially) or just talking, those snakes can twist anything and everything so always be sure to have evidence to slay their asses wrong and don’t take their crap for one minute </p><p>Sorry for the rant, I randomly remembered that and just wanted to get some things off my chest about it </p><p>On a lighter note, I dedicate the dog character to my pet dog and practically childhood best friend, Max who unfortunately passed back in early-mid 2018. He was such a sweet animal, and I loved him very much and still do. He was very spoiled rotten and me and my family always gave him every ounce of love that we had. I miss him every day but I’m very happy that he’s in a better place. R.ip. baby boy 🥰💜❤️🧡💛💚</p><p>I love you guys ✨🥰😘</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Tubbo makes some discoveries,, cue SBI angst and worried SBI fam</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I’m still dying over how wholesome it waz  when Tommy ran up and hugged George during the London Vlog 😭😭😭 hes so fuckin pure 💜💜💜</p><p>....Kay enjoy the chapter 😃</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tubbo was a little nervous about going to Tommy’s house. <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy’s parents don’t like him very much, and they have even gotten angry at the boy countless times before. <br/><br/></p><p>Still, he knew he had to ago. This is for Tommy. <br/><br/></p><p>He needs to know if Tommy’s safe. <br/><br/></p><p>His own parents despised Tommy’s, so he knew he couldn’t ask them to take him because they would recognize the route and turn them around and Tubbo would freak out and they would demand why they need to go there and—no. Just no. <br/><br/></p><p>He’s not getting his parents involved. That will only make things worse. <br/><br/></p><p>Tubbo decides to take the bus to Tommy’s neighborhood. He tells his sisters that he’s going to chill at a friend’s house and they just shrug and bid him farewell agreeing to tell their parents he’s out if they ask. <br/><br/></p><p>The drive went quicker than he had wanted it to and he had to stay in his seat for a moment to muster up some courage, standing after a minute and paying the driver before hopping off the bus. <br/><br/></p><p>He walked down the streets for a bit, noticing Tommy’s place and walks up to the front door. <br/><br/></p><p>The teen sighs, then raises his fist and knocks on the door.   <br/><br/></p><p>He frowns when he recieved no answer. Were his parents not home? No, neither of them went to work until like the late afternoon. <br/><br/></p><p>The boy knocked a few more times, feeling the slightest bit of anxiety course through his veins when there was still no answer.  <br/><br/></p><p>Tubbo began to turn around, giving up until he heard several locks being undone, as well as the chain and looked back to see Tommy’s father standing in the now open doorway. <br/><br/></p><p>“Oh. Tubbo.” Tommy’s Father greeted rather coldly. “Hello. What brings you here?”  <br/><br/></p><p>The brunet could tell that the man was trying to be civil, but he could just see in his eyes that he didn’t like him very much. <br/><br/></p><p>Well tough luck, Tubbo can’t stand his ass either. <br/><br/></p><p>He mentally takes a deep breath before smiling up at the man, “Hi, Mr. Simons...uhm...I was just wondering if Tommy was home? Me and my friends haven’t heard from him for a few days and...everyone’s gotten worried so..” he trailed off. <br/><br/></p><p>The man grunted in response. “Kid’s grounded. Staying at his aunt’s house for a few days.”  <br/><br/></p><p>Tubbo nodded, brows narrowing slightly. <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy doesn’t have any aunts. Both his parents are only children, he had heard one time. Clearly his father was trying to pull a fast one on him. <br/><br/></p><p>Tubbo suspects something, but he needs to he sure... </p><p> </p><p>“Well, if that’s all have a nice day.” Tommy’s father said and began to close the door, and in a panic Tubbo threw his foot in between the doorway and the door wincing at the brief pain it caused crushing it slightly, before it was relieved as the man opened the door back up with a bit of an annoyed expression. <br/><br/></p><p>“uhh, actually,” Tubbo rushed out sheepishly, pulling his leg back. “I forgot something here the last time I came over...and uhm...I was wondering if I could go look for it in Tommy’s room?” <br/><br/></p><p>“what does it look like? I could check for you.” <br/><br/></p><p>“You wouldn’t be able to find it. It,, It’s kind of complicated...it’s really small...and Tommy and I are the only ones who know what it looks like. I’ll be in and out,, swear.”  <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy’s Father frowned deeply. He seemed to be contemplating it, and Tubbo felt as if he could break under the man’s gaze. <br/><br/></p><p>Finally, he opened the door further. “Fine.” He relented. “But hurry up, me and the wife have places to be.” <br/><br/></p><p>Tubbo nodded, saying a quick thanks before rushing inside and up the stairs. <br/><br/></p><p>He made his way to Tommy’s room, pushing the door open almost choking at the familiar sights that made him miss the younger boy. <br/><br/></p><p>As expected, his room was messy, but everything seemed normal for the most part.</p><p>
  <em>Tommy; ugh I fuckin swear to Christ I’m grabbing my shit and I’m ditching their asses one day </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Tubbo; what did they do?<br/></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Tommy: They don’t need to do fuck for me to say that at this point. I’m just saying...fuck. I’m getting out and Im gonna do it soon. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Tubbo: where would you go? <br/></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Tommy: Idfk...anywhere ig. <br/></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Tubbo; yk you could alwaye stay with me </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Tommy: thx man but that’d be a bad idea, they would hate that when they find out and I say when because your house would be the first place they’d look, if they gave a fuck to look. And I don’t wanna make your parents mad with all that bullshit. <br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em><br/>Tubbo: true....they wouldnt be mad though you’re like a fourth kid to them </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Tonmy; and that’s why I’d never run off to your house,, don’t wanna burden your family with my family’s issues. <br/></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Tubbo; I guess that’s fair...will you let me know if you do it? <br/></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Tommy; yeah. If I don’t let you know through the phone I’ll let you know through another way. <br/></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Tubbo; wdym? <br/></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Tommy; I wouldn’t trust my parents with my fucking life, so I came up with a codeword when I do decide to blow this joint so they’ll have no fucking idea what I’m talking about </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Tubbo; what’s the word </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Tommy; Pogchamp </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Tubbo; lollllll how creative, don’t they hear you say that all the time? <br/></em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Tommy; stfu &gt;:( they don’t pay attention to half of what I say so it’s fine. They wouldn’t know where to look anyways. <br/></em>
</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo sighs. He walks over to Tommy’s desk and looks at the plant that’s settled atop of it. He grabs at the top leaf and pulls, gasping softly when it’s ripped off and he digs inside the potted plant, pulling a key out and holding it in the center of his palm. <br/><br/></p><p>He goes to the middle drawer and pushes the key into the small lock, turning and a ‘click’ filling the air after a moment and he pulls it open. <br/><br/></p><p>
  <em>Tubbo; promise me something tho? </em>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em>Tommy; what </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Tubbo; that y’know, you’ll keep in contact with me when you’re out on the streets and shit? Let me know what’s up?  <br/><br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tommy; yeah whatever. God you really are clingy </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The message back then had lacked any bite, someone who knew Tommy as well as Tubbo knew that. <br/><br/></p><p>He stared at the small sticky note that had “Pogchamp” scribbled out on it in a rather rushed manner. He also noticed that the money that Tommy had saved up in the drawer was gone as well, the cash he had hidden being the reason the drawer had a key to it in the first place. <br/><br/></p><p>Something didn’t sit right. Tommy hadn’t contacted him since their talk weeks ago. Was something wrong with him? <br/><br/></p><p>Tubbo felt concern churn in his gut as he made sure to put everything back where he found it, and that nothing looked touched or out of place while shoving the note in his pocket to dispose of later before walking down the stairs.  He didn’t want to seem weird so he grabbed an item in the room to make it look like he really had retrieved something he had forgotten. <br/><br/></p><p>He thanked the boy’s parents, trying to seem as casual as possible before letting himself out and getting another bus ride home, texting Wilbur and Technoblade and Philza to meet him on the VC on the way. <br/><br/></p><p>Nobody was home when he got back; his sisters more than likely went out to hang with their own friends and his parents had work themselves. <br/><br/></p><p>He grabbed a snack before making his way up to his room and hopped on the Discord Call right away. <br/><br/></p><p>“Tommy ran away.” The Brit said, not even saying hi and rushed to explain before anyone could say anything. “He talked to me about doing it a lot, almost constantly. He and his parents...don’t get along. At all. Neither do our families. I found his stash of money gone when I went over there, and he wrote a code word down that confirmed he did it. But he told me he’d keep in contact with me and I haven’t heard shit.”  <br/><br/></p><p>It was silent for a moment in the call as the other members let the information soak in. <br/><br/></p><p>“Did he ever say where he’d go?” Technoblade spoke after a minute. <br/><br/></p><p>“no. He didn’t specify any town or city, he just said he wanted to get out.”</p><p> </p><p>”Okay. Tubbo,, it’s okay mate.” Philza said soothingly. “We’ll find him.” <br/><br/></p><p>Tubbo was confused as to why he was being told that, only to realize his breathing had turned short and choppy, clenching at his jeans in an iron grip.  <br/><br/></p><p>He sighed shakily, letting go of his pants and resting his arms on his desk. <br/><br/></p><p>“he might still be in Nottingham.” Wilbur said, pulling up Google Maps. “If he said he didn’t know where he wanted to go,, he could be hiding somewhere there until he figures it out.”  <br/><br/></p><p>The group spent the next hours or so,, looking and thinking about where the rebellious teen could have run off to,, only for them all to be led to dead ends.  <br/><br/></p><p>Tubbo sniffled audibly, blinking through teary eyed vision. “Sorry.” He instantly apologized, wiping at his face only for more sniffles to escspe him.  <br/><br/></p><p>“Tubbo get some rest.” Wilbur said softly. They all knew that Tubbo had a habit of jumping to the worst of conclusions in situations like these, and the stress would not help the teen one bit. “It’s pretty late for you. We’ll call you tomorrow once you’re finished with school and then we’ll look more, okay?” <br/><br/></p><p>“okay.” Tubbo replied after a minute. “G’night.” <br/><br/></p><p>Wilbur, Techno and Philza bid goodnight to him in response, and then Tubbo left the call.  <br/><br/></p><p>The trio looked for a little while longer. <br/><br/></p><p>“fuck,,” Wilbur swore, leaning back in his chair. “Where the <em>fuck</em> could he be??” <br/><br/></p><p>“i don’t know, but we’ll find him.” Philza stated confidently. <br/><br/></p><p>“Will we, though? God knows how long he’s been out there,, Dad,,” </p><p> </p><p>They only ever called Phil Dad offscreen when they were messing around or during rare sentimental or serious moments. <br/><br/></p><p>“i mean he could be hurt. I thought we were family,, I thought he felt like he could come to us,, why didn’t he reach out to one of us?” Wilbur babbled, increasingly hysterically as tears rose to his eyes. <br/><br/></p><p>“I don’t know.” Phil sighed softly, at a loss of what else to say. “But I’m sure it’s nothing you or any of us did, Wilbur. Maybe he has his reasons. Or maybe he’s just being prideful,, Tommy is very stubborn when it comes to asking or accepting help.” <br/><br/></p><p>“He probably fucking thinks I don’t care about him.” Wilbur scoffed bitterly. “I call him annoying a lot,, and as if I don’t like having him as a friend and like he’s a nuisance. Fuck he probably thought he couldn’t go to me and it’s all my fault.....” </p><p> </p><p>“Wil,, take it easy on yourself. I’m sure Tommy didn’t take it to heart. And I’m sure you none of us did anything to make him feel like he can’t talk to us. We’ll find him,, I’m sure of it. We just need to keep our hopes up.” <br/><br/></p><p>Wilbur sniffled, rubbing the tears from his cheeks. If his baby brother was hurt out there somewhere he was going to lose his shit. <br/><br/></p><p>If he’s fine, Wilbur is going to kill him. </p><hr/><p>Tommy shot up, sobbing for breath. His limbs shook as his chest heaved, gasping for air and curling in on himself and looking around in panic. <br/><br/></p><p>Once he realized that he was in the alleyway that he had taken a nap in, he slowly relaxed. <br/><br/></p><p>Thank fuck. His parents hadn’t caught him before he was able to escape. <br/><br/></p><p>It was all a horrible fucking nightmare. <br/><br/></p><p>But technically he’s still living it though, isn’t he? He’s homeless while it’s cold as fuck outside. <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy swallowed thickly as he shakily sat up, wincing at the pain in his fallen asleep legs. He brushed his golden fringe to the side, cringing at how dirty it felt. <br/><br/></p><p>Nasty.  <br/><br/></p><p>He noticed his phone light up and grabbed it, inhaling shakily at the loads of messages that were displayed on the screen. <br/><br/></p><p>
  <strong>Bitch Boy </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>20:36 </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Tommy? <br/><br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>20:40 Tommy, please answer me. <br/><br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>20:51 Tommy pls </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>20:58 At least let me know you’re okay? </em>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em>21:00 Tommy you’re scaring me  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Dadza </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>21:10 Tommy please </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>21:11 Tubbo and Wilbur are freaking out </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>21:15 Tubbo won’t stop crying </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>21:16 Please contact at least one of us. We’re worried about you,, Tommy </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>21: 20 I promise whatever it is, you can talk to us </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>21: 26  I don’t know what’s going on but we want to help you,, kid </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Wilbur </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>21:30 </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Tommy, please pick up </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>21: 32 I’m worried about you </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>21:35   Tommy please answer me I’m sorry if I made it seem like I can’t stand you I really do care about you </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>21:40 It’s been weeks </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>21:43  Have you been eating?? </em>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em>21: 45 Are you hurt??  </em>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em>21:50 Tommy I need you to answer me I’m freaking the fuck out </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>21:55 Please Tommy </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Tommy pushed his phone into his pocket. His thoughts were interrupted by the loud grumbling of his stomach. <br/><br/></p><p>He hadn’t had anything to eat all night. It was late, but he didn’t care. <br/><br/></p><p>With a heavy heart he made his way to the nearest McDonald’s. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Within the next minute, he’s not paying attention to where he’s walking and bumps into someone so hard that it knocks him off balance and nearly takes him to the ground, but a hand shoots out and grabs his wrist in a rather not so rough manner, pulls him back onto his feet causing Tommy’s cheeks to flush, as saying “Watch where you’re fucking going, bitch” now seems like a dick move. </p><p> </p><p>He goes to say something, what he doesn’t know, to thank them? But they beat him to the punch. </p><p> </p><p>“Hold up—Tommy? What the fuck?”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yup I literally came up with A-D letters for names cuz I was lazy 😃 thats me for you</p><p>Also a short chapter bc the last two were long 😶🥱</p><p>Some angst but...other than that no TW’s yay you guys get a break :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tommy let out a hiss of agony as he was thrown roughly against the wall. <br/><br/></p><p>He spat out blood, glaring at the teens in front of him. <br/><br/></p><p>“What the fuck? I literally haven’t done anything to you assholes!” He snarled angrily. <br/><br/></p><p>The tallest shrugged. “Should have just given us what we wanted.” <br/><br/></p><p>“I wasn’t gonna give you shitheads my goddamn money!” <br/><br/></p><p>“Hey!” Tommy growled as one of them grabbed the wallet from his pocket, he tried to lurch at him but another one stepped up and shoved Tommy against the wall, pinning him there. <br/><br/></p><p>“Well now you don’t have to.” He smirks. <br/><br/></p><p>“You <em>motherfuckers</em>...” </p><p> </p><p>“Jackpot.” Kid A chuckles, pulling out a huge wad of cash. “We’ll be thriving for days, boys.” <br/><br/></p><p>“If I weren’t pinned down right now I’d beat the everloving shit out of you, you sons of bitches! Give me my money back you assholes—“ </p><p> </p><p>Kid B abruptly spoke up, “Hey, I recognize that annoying piece of shit’s voice! This is Tommy fucking Innit.”  <br/><br/></p><p>“The one and only.” Tommy said, tone lacking it’s usual charm. “And fuck you.” <br/><br/></p><p>“God, my sister goddamn loves you. I have no fucking clue why, why she can’t see the truth.”  Kid C scoffed.  <br/><br/></p><p>“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? What truth?” <br/><br/></p><p>“Oh my God, fucking <em>face</em> it!” Kid D laughed incredulously. “you’re small time compared to streamers like Dream Team or Technoblade. You’ll never be as good as someone like Dream. And I mean you only use George or Sapnap or Dream himself or Techno, or Wilbur fucking Soot for clout.”</p><p> </p><p>Tommy’s brows narrowed. “I...don’t use them...for views.”  He said tone cold and calculating.<br/><br/></p><p>“Then why do always put their names in the titles of your videos? Because you’re fucking <em>desperate</em> that’s why! You know nobody likes you for you, Innit. People find you annoying. There are so fucking many out there who hate you all you have to do is look left or right! You know the only way people will actually like your videos is if your riding off the coattails of a famous YouTuber.” <br/><br/></p><p>“Shut the fuck up you ignorant bitch! I’d never use Dream or any of them just to get viewers, we’re mates! And even with...some people hating me, I don’t need viewers’ approval to feel good about my content!” <br/><br/></p><p>Kid A smirked menacingly. “I think we all know that’s a goddamn lie. You crave approval from anyone and everyone because you’re <em>that</em> fucking deprived of it. God Dream <em>must</em> pity someone like you. You’re—ha, they probably only pretend to like you, stream with you just to get you off their asses. If you ask me, it’s just an act. You’re nothing but a nuisance to them. And poor Wilbur Soot and Technoblade, pshh. I’d be humiliated if I were them to call you my little brother.” <br/><br/></p><p>“<em>Fuck</em>.” Tommy seethed, fighting wetness in his eyes. “<em>You</em>.”  He delivered a hard kick to his shin.  <br/><br/></p><p>Kid A let out a cry of pain, then straightened up and glared hotly at the blonde, “Oh you piece of shit—“ he went in to punch him, and Tommy did his best to not look scared. <br/><br/></p><p>Kid B stopped him, grabbing his shoulder. “Not worth it man, we got what we wanted let’s get outta here.” <br/><br/></p><p>Kid A hesitated, then nodded. He smirked at Tommy before pushing him against the wall one more time hitting Tommy’s head and causing him to growl in irritation before he ran off with his friends. <br/><br/></p><p>“Fuck!” Tommy yelled out, punching the wall and ignoring the wave of pain that it sent up his arm. <br/><br/></p><p>Those fuckfaces were <em>wrong</em>. He’d never use any of his friends for views. Just who the hell do those pieces of shits think they are? <br/><br/></p><p>This was humiliating. He got robbed by a bunch of <em>pricks</em>. <br/><br/></p><p>He bent down to collect his wallet that had been abandoned, and oh how generous? They left him five bucks. Tommy rolled his eyes. <br/><br/></p><p>That was <em>barely</em> enough money for a snack and a train ride out of his hometown tomorrow.  <br/><br/></p><p>He’ll be glad once he’s out of Nottingham. Not as big of a chance of getting caught by his parents or their shitty friends who would more than likely snitch if they were to see him. <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy huffed in frustration, slinging his bag over his shoulder and finding a safer place to crash for the night. <br/><br/></p><p>The blonde pulled out his phone. Goddamn it’s at 2%. <br/><br/></p><p>He feels his throat constrict as his hand hovers over the call button on Wilbur’s contact. <br/><br/></p><p>He wants to so desperately call the man. To be hugged and reassured. <em>To be cared about</em>. He begins to hover closer.....only to pull his hand back. <br/><br/></p><p>No, he <em><span class="u">can’t</span></em>. He can’t call. Just as he does this, his phone dies and he’s met with a black screen. Tears well in his eyes. <br/><br/></p><p>
  <em>You’re so fucking selfish. Don’t pretend you’re holding back for him because you’re too weak to actually do something about your situation. You’re making people worry on purpose. <strike>Selfish selfish selfish </strike></em>
</p><p> </p><p>Tommy whimpers, pulling his knees to his chest as he stiffled sniffles, pressing his face to his knees. <br/><br/></p><p>Why can’t he have a family who genuinely loves him? <br/><br/></p><p>Why couldn’t he have been raised to <em>like</em> himself?  <br/><br/></p><p>Why is he such a <em>fuck up</em>?? <br/><br/></p><p>Tears continued to run down his cheeks as his own pitiful sobs lull him to sleep. </p><hr/><p>Tommy managed to grab a breakfast bar the next morning. <br/><br/></p><p>It wasn’t nearly enough, and his throat would more than likely be dry due to a lack of water or any kind of drink in general, but he knew he couldn’t be greedy especially considering the fact that he still needs the money for the bus. <br/><br/></p><p>It took him a little bit, but he eventually found a bus stop with a bus parked right there and hopped on, handing the driver his remaining crumpled bills. <br/><br/></p><p>He raised a brow at the boy, “Got anywhere specific you wanna go?”</p><p>Tommy shook his head, “Not really, just away from here.” <br/><br/></p><p>The driver shrugged, and Tommy walked towards the back of the bus and took his seat. <br/><br/></p><p>A little girl who was next to her mother waved at him with a smile, and he tiredly grinned and waved back. <br/><br/></p><p>He leaned his head against the window as trees and different buildings rolled by. <br/><br/></p><p>The next thing he knew, he was being shaken awake (when had he fallen asleep?) in a light manner, and he blinked a few times before looking up to see the bus driver in front of him. <br/><br/></p><p>“Sorry Kid, but unless you’ve got some more bills on ya this is your stop, yeah?” <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy mutely nodded, grabbing his bag and jumping down each stair of the vehicle, landing on shaky legs. <br/><br/></p><p>Tommy gazed around him. A part of him had feared he’d slept for too long and they did a round trip back to Nottingham, but that fear quickly diminished once he realized that his surroundings looked nothing like that of his hometown’s. <br/><br/></p><p>Still, it looked eerily familiar, he’s been here before? <br/><br/></p><p>The blonde swallowed, adjusted his backpack and began walking through the small crowds of people. <br/><br/></p><p>He couldn’t put his finger on it. He recognized this place, yet his sleep-deprived, dehydrated mind couldn’t think of the name. <br/><br/></p><p>Shit, he doesn’t even know what time it is. <br/><br/></p><p>He has no idea where he’s going. All he knows is he’s getting further away and that alone provides him some sort of comfort. <br/><br/></p><p>Within the next minute, he’s not paying attention to where he’s walking and bumps into someone so hard that it knocks him off balance and nearly takes him to the ground, but a hand shoots out and grabs his wrist in a rather not so rough manner, pulls him back onto his feet causing Tommy’s cheeks to flush, as saying “Watch where you’re fucking going, bitch” now seems like a dick move. <br/><br/></p><p>He goes to say something, what he doesn’t know, to thank them? But they beat him to the punch. </p><p><br/>“Hold up—<em>Tommy</em>? What the fuck?” <br/><br/></p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">Tommy’s eyes widened at the voice tinged with a familiar accent none too different than his own. He looked up at the person who wore</span>a surprised expression, brow raised and brown eyes shining with confusion and concern. The teen had seen them enough times on his screen for it to be next to impossible to not recognise them, yet seeing them in person for the first time felt so weird and surreal. And apparently they had recognised him right away, too. <br/><br/></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“George?” <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Said man lets go of the boy’s wrist with a small huff and adjusts the strap of a bag that hangs on his right shoulder, filled with what only Tommy could see was groceries. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, it’s me. What are you doing? Why are you all the way here in Brighton, Kid?” <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy blinked. That’s where he was? <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well where did you think you were?” <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Apparently he had said that out loud. Okay. Tommy didn’t answer, flinching slightly when George spoke again. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Christ, what the hell happened to your face?” He very nearly exclaimed, not wanting to make a scene in front of the passerby. Now that would certainly be a problem. A million questions swam in the brunet’s head. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The teen remained silent, swallowing thickly. His head felt like it was full of cotton and his limbs felt like jelly. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy? You good?” </span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">George sounded far away despite the fact that he had actually taken a few steps closer to the boy. His tone holds a mixture of bewilderment and concern. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It literally felt like Tommy’s body was turning against him. <br/><br/></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As everything turned black, he could have sworn he heard his name being called. </span>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But he couldn’t be sure.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Before he can look around anymore he’s interrupted by the same familiar voice.  </p><p> </p><p>“Oh, you’re awake. Hello, Tommy.”  </p><p> </p><p>Said blonde looked over to George fucking Not Found standing a few meters away by his staircase, walking down the last of the stairs and towards the teen expression unreadable.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Life is killing me rn wtf lol don’t be surprised if I dont update for a bit</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tommy’s eyes snapped open, shooting up and nearly falling off the soft couch that he was laying on—wait.... </p><p> </p><p>Soft couch? <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Tommy rubbed at his eyes as he looked at his surroundings. Ugh, gross. They were dry and sore. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>He wasn’t surprised, that’s what he gets for crying for days like a fucking loser, like a fucking pissbaby. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>He pieces the puzzle together and realizes that he’s in someone’s place. It’s pretty big, from the looks of it. Before he can look around anymore he’s interrupted by the same familiar voice.  <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Oh, you’re awake. Hello, Tommy.”  <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Said blonde looked over to George fucking Not Found standing a few meters away by his staircase, walking down the last of the stairs and towards the teen expression unreadable. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>The boy didn’t respond.  <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Do you remember what happened?” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“....I passed out.” Tommy said after a minute of searching his thoughts. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>George nodded. “You did.”  <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“You brought me back to your place.”  <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Yeah. I did.” Granted George wasn’t as big nor as strong as say Dream or Sapnap but he <em>wasn’t</em> weak, either. He could easily manage to lug a teenager Tommy’s age and height back to his place without <em>too</em> much of an issue, which he did. “I wasn’t going to leave you there, you know.” His tone remained rather cold and calculating, no emotions to pinpoint or pick out. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <strike> <em>I wish you had.</em></strike>
</p><p> </p><p>George walked away from the teen towards what Tommy noticed was the kitchen. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You hungry?” George asks, raising a brow at him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“No.” Tommy lies blandly. He </span><em>was</em> hungry, that bar he had this morning was small as shit and it was what, four hundred colories? What a ripoff.  <br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Have a water at least.” </span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The brunet said, walking back in and tossing a water bottle at him.  </span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy caught it and mumbled a thanks, opening it and taking a hesitant sip. It stung a little at first as it ran down his dry vocal chords, but it felt good after a minute and he gave a barely audible sigh of relief. </span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">George sat on the ottoman in front of the teenager, parted his lips and said in a serious manner, “Tommy, what are you doing in Brighton at 6 p.m.—“ shit, it’s that late? Tommy feels so dumb, he hadn’t even noticed. “—you’ve been missing for weeks, is this where you’ve been the whole time? Why haven’t you reached out to anyone?” </span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">George personally doubted it, he was sure he would’ve recognized Tommy sooner if that were the case.  </span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy swallowed, taking a minute to answer. “No. I wasn’t here the entire time.” Confirmed George’s doubts. “I was in my hometown up until now. I, uhm...ran away. But I didn’t want anyone to know that because they would havw gotten on me, asking what’s wrong, what’s wrong, and what’s going on, and it...would’ve all been too much.  I almost called Wilbur, but I decided against it because again him worrying and asking all these questions would’ve just stressed the shit out of me. And then my phone died, I took a bus here—well I didn’t know it was Brighton until you said so, I didn’t care where it was going, as long as it wasn’t Nottingham. And uh...yeah. Now I’m here.”  He was a little breathless at the end. <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">George was silent for a minute, removing his gaze from the boy and letting his explanation sink in, brushing his dark fringe from his eyes before looking back at him, crossing his leg over the other. </span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So, where <em>have</em> you been? Before you came to Brighton.”   <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy flinched a little. He didn’t want to get that far into it, but he knew he owed it since well if you pass out in front of someone and they’re nice enough to bring you back to their <em>warm</em> home, it’s definitely fucking needed. Tommy sighed. <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“nowhere.” <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“...nowhere.” George parroted, brows furrowed in confusion. <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah. I didn’t wanna go back there. So, umm...” he swallowed audibly, dropping his gaze and playing with a loose string in his jeans. “I,, I was on the streets for a while. For a few weeks. Grabbed money and snacks and just...fucking bolted. Like I said, I wanted away from that goddamn place.” <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“because you and your parents don’t get along? Right?” <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy’s head shot up in surprise. “Who told you that? Tubbo?” He felt a little scared. Tubbo <em>wouldn’t</em> seriously...— </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah. But I assure you that’s all he told us.” Tommy relaxed, feeling a little guilty for doubting the older boy. “Just that, and that your guys’ families clash. Everyone was looking after you disappeared. Tubbo went to your house to look, and didn’t tell us many details there either, only that you weren’t there and you had run away, that because of your situation with your parents you’ve talked to him before about doing it, and you left a note with a code word confirming it. He was very selective with what he told us.” </span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy bit back a smile. He knew he could trust Tubbo.  <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What happened to your face?” George uttered. Tommy tensed again. </span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Street fight.” He blurted. Wasn’t a complete lie. “‘Bout a night ago some fuckers jumped me and stole my shit. Was just about broke by the goddamn bus ride.”  He was a little embarrassed to admit he had been robbed, but at the same time he was way too fucking tired to care too much.  </span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">George hummed. He leaned back, lips forming a thin line. “I’ll be right back.”  <br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">Tommy watched as the older Brit disappeared up the stairs. He came back a few minutes later with a small medical supplies kit.  <br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">“Umm. Can I?” George asked, a little hesitantly. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">Tommy resisted the urge to flinch away. He wasn’t fond of touch, never had been and the fact that he’s been beaten practically a great majority of his life has a lot to do with that fact.  <br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">But George isn’t an abuser. Far from. He can trust the man. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">The blonde nodded, and George leans forward and cups his one side of his face in a firm yet the most gentle way anyone’s ever done, and that’s just so fucking sad to think and Tommy knows it, too. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">Most of them are cuts, already beginning to scab over so George simply puts ointment on them causing Tommy to hiss in pain, recoiling and shift multiple times. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ouch! Fucking—that hurts, bitch!” Slips out against his will. <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“Well if you would just sit </span> <span class="s2"> <em>still</em> </span> <span class="s1">—</span> <span class="s2"> <em>dumbass</em> </span> <span class="s1">—then maybe it wouldn’t.”  <br/>
<br/>
</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy rolls his eyes, shifts a little wincing some more and flips the man off out of habit. He quickly catches himself and yanks his hand down, berating himself. You don’t do that to someone who helps you out, Innit you fucking moron. <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">George ignores it as he pressed down and wipes some of the dried blood and soon enough he’s done, bandages on Tommy’s face and an icepack against his black eye and bruised cheek.  <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“thank you.” Tommy mumbled, avoiding eye contact. He didn’t know how to handle someone being so nice, especially George. Don’t get him wrong, George is a genuinely kind person and he knows this; he just...isn’t used to it. It feels weird. And George’s cold tone had shifted to one a little softer. <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">George hummed, then said a minute later. “Tommy I think you should let everyone know where you are and that you’re okay.” </span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy grunted non-comittedly, feeling anxiety rising at the thought. “I know....” </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The brunet could obviously see his distress, as he said after a soft sigh, “Or I could do it for you. I don’t care. I can just hop on a call with them and explain if that’s what you prefer.” <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re gonna tell everyone?” Tommy asks, sounding a little afraid and it makes George frown. <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“Of course I’m gonna tell them I found you, and that you’re here safe with me, but I won’t tell them anything beyond that if it’s really what you want, but everyone’s been really worried so I think they deserve a </span> <span class="s2">bit</span> <span class="s1"> of an explanation, yeah?” <br/>
<br/>
</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay.” Tommy said quietly. “Can you do it?” <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah. In a minute.” He paused, “What are your parents gonna think, with you running off?” <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy shrugged, shifting. “Probably be mad as fuck.” He gave a humourless chuckle. “‘Specially since they won’t have anyone to pay the bills around there.” <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">George looked surprised. “<em>You</em> pay the bills?”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">”heh, yeah. Kinda a “chore”, in a way. I have lots of those. I make dinner for them, too.” <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sometimes?” </span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, all the time. I always have to make dinner for them.”  <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You....pay the bills...and make dinner for your parents constantly? That’s their job, Tommy, and they never make dinner for you?” <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“They never make anything for me.” Tommy mumbled. “And I...well I get in a shit ton of trouble if I don’t do what they say. The reason I don’t have my PC with me is my old man got pissed and smashed it. I pay the bills because they take advantage of the cash I make from streaming, and well they don’t think I deserve anything good from them like dinner.” </span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s...” George paused. “That’s <em>awful</em>, Tommy. I’m sorry you went through that.”  He said, frowning deeply. <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy shrugged. “I’m away from them so it’s fine.” <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">It’s </span><em>not</em>, not when he’s still nervous about them finding him somehow. But he can lie.  <br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I should go call them.” George said, standing. “You can come with me, or...? You don’t have to.”  <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Umm, is it okay if I just go back to sleep?” Tommy yawned. <br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">George looked at him sympathetically. The kid looked </span> <span class="s2"> <em>exhausted</em> </span> <span class="s1">, just what exactly </span> <span class="s2"> <em>happened</em> </span> <span class="s1"> to him? <br/>
<br/>
</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Of course it is.” George responded without hesitation. “I’ll just be in my office upstairs, second door on the left but come get me if you need anything, okay?” <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy nodded hesitantly. He watched George get up, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder and the boy very nearly flinched, but instead relaxed at the touch that wasn’t a punch or smack, before the older Brit was gone around the corner.  <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He yawned again, turning on his side and fell into a fitful slumber. <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">George sighed softly as he walked into his office, leaving the door open a little to make it clear that it would be okay to walk in if the teen decided he did need something. </span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The man sat down in his chair, switching his computer on and going straight into Discord. He jumped onto the call, noticing that Dream, Sap, Wilbur, Phil and a few others were already on. <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey George.” Dream greeted, not in his usual upbeat tone. He sounded tired and drained, though it wasn’t a surprise the blonde had been staying up every night for the past few days with Wilbur and the rest of the Sleepy Bois, trying to find Tommy. George felt a pang of sympathy for the second time that day. “What’s up?” He could hear the man stifle a yawn. “Oh yeah, Tubbo had to help his family with shit.” He added. <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">George inhaled slowly, and blew out a breath. “Okay. So, I initiated this meeting with all of you because...well, I found Tommy.” </span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?!” Wilbur exclaimed, voice raspy, he didn’t sound too much better than Dream but George’s comment made him sound a lot more awake. <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">A bunch of commotion went off right then, people asking multiple questions all at once and they were getting so </span> <span class="s2"><em>loud</em>, </span> <span class="s1">George winced at the volume and brows furrowed in frustration as he couldn’t understand anyone and if they got any louder it was a possibility that it would wake Tommy up and that’s the last thing he wanted. <br/>
<br/>
</span></p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“</span> <span class="s2"> <em>Guys</em> </span> <span class="s1">!” He exclaimed, silencing everyone. He let out a huff, “Thank you.” He mumbled before continuing, “Yes, I found Tommy. Found him today, actually.” <br/>
<br/>
</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Where is he?” Wilbur asked anxiously. <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He’s with me. I bumped into him while I was coming back from the store, we didn’t really get to say much before he passed out.”  <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">“</span> <span class="s2"> <em>What</em> </span> <span class="s1">?” Phil said worriedly. “Tommy passed out?? Is he okay!?” <br/>
<br/>
</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah Yeah, he’s alright. He didn’t get a concussion or anything, I made sure of it.” He heard all of them let out sighs of relief in unison. <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You said he’s with you? Can we talk to him?” Wilbur asked. He had been worried sick about the boy for the past few days, and he was dying just to hear his voice to reassure the man that he was safe and sound. <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He’s sleeping.” George riposted, apologetically. “And when I say sleeping, I mean he’s full on conked out on my couch in the other room. He’s a bit too tired to be able to talk to anyone, he just asked me if he could get some more sleep and I told him he could. He hasn’t told me...much of anything yet. Only confirmed the information that we already know.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Oh, but he did have some injuries. Nothing too serious that I couldn’t help with, nothing broken or sprained just some scratches and cuts and bruises, that he said came from a street fight but he’s fine.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">I’ll try to talk with him more later. Right now I’m just letting him rest, kid looks like he really needs it.” He frowned at the end. <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Shit.” Dream whistles. “Sounds like he was on his last leg practically, it’s a good thing you found him when you did, George. I’m just glad he’s okay, brat worried the shit out of all of us.” <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Wilbur gives a small, distressed sigh. “I just hope he doesn’t do anything foolish, like try to get back out there. Tommy’s so fucking prideful when it comes to accepting help, he’s always been that way, and I wouldn’t know the first place to look for him.” </span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t worry, he’s not going anywhere.” George stated firmly, giving a small pause before continuing, “He can stay with me for a while, I’ll look after the little gremlin. Make sure he doesn’t do anything idiotic and hopefully he’ll tell me more of what’s going on.” <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He wasn’t just saying this because he still felt guilty about getting upset like he did at the teenager and wanted to make it up to him, he was truly and genuinely concerned for the boy and there’s no way he’s going back onto the streets that George found him on. <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you, George,” Wilbur says, sounding incredibly grateful. “I—I know it can be hard for you guys to get along sometimes, but thank you. It means a lot. We trust him with you.”  <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah..” George mumbled, receiving another dose of guilt at the beginning of the statement. “Of course.” </span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And, if it’s not too much to ask, do you think when he’s up to it you can ask him to text some of us or at least one of us in the next day or so?” Wilbur planned on going easy on the teen considering his situation, but at the same time he definitely was going to let the boy know just how much he had worried them, without getting too upset of course. <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sure, I’ll let him know soon.” He swallowed. “I think you lot should get some rest. You’ve all been pushing yourselves really hard and it’s not necessary anymore now that he’s safe and with me. Get some sleep and I promise I’ll keep you guys updated, yeah?” </span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He said goodbye to everyone after they agreed and he sighed, leaning back as he pulled his headset off and carded a hand through his dark hair.  </span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The man set his headset on his desk after a moment and got up, leaving his office and going back downstairs.  </span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He found that the teen was still asleep, so he walked over and lightly shook him awake by his shoulder, pulling away when he saw the boy rousing.  <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“sorry for barging in like this.” Tommy mumbled, sounding levels of insecure George had never heard from him before. “I can....I can go, uhm, stay with my aunt.” <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">George pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh, did the kid really think he’s that <em>stupid? </em><br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tommy you’re not going to run off and stay with anyone because from what I heard you don’t have any aunts.” Tommy visibly deflated, looking down at his feet. <br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">George gave a lighter sigh after a minute. </span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You can stay here for a bit.” George offers nonchalantly.  <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Really?” Tommy asks, surprise evident in his tone. He removed his gaze from his shoes to look up at the man, dumbstruck. <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah. It’s better than being on the streets, right?” <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy swallowed, glancing away again. </span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re not a problem Tommy.” George stated. “If you don’t wanna stay here, I get it,, I can drop you off at Wilbur’s. “ </span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy instantly shot the idea down. He loved Wilbur, he truly did care about the man he was his older brother, but Wilbur tended to get so overprotective and quite frankly, for some reason, he just didn’t want to. </span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“no,, umm.” Tommy said quietly. “With you.” </span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">George looked a little surprised, but nodded after a second. “Okay. Grab your bag, I have a guest room upstairs and you can sleep all you want in there.”  </span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The boy nodded, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and following the man upstairs. </span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The guest room was really nice, it was big and roomy and cozy feeling not to mention the decent sized bed.  </span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“it’s not too much.” George said, sliding his hands into his hoodie pockets. “but,, I hope you like it.”  </span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I do.” Tommy said genuinely. “Uhm, seriously. Thank you, George.” </span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">George’s expression softened as he smiled, some warmth seeping into his tone. ”you’re welcome Tommy.” <br/>
<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll be streaming with Sapnap and Dream, so I’ll see you in a bit,, again you can come if you need anything.” The man said over his shoulder before walking out of the room.  </span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy sighed tiredly. He laid his bag against the wall and unlaced his shoes before slipping into the bed. <br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The mattress and pillow were extremely soft in all the right ways, another thing that Tommy wasn’t used to. </span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His bed back at home was very nearly as hard as a rock, so it made him happy and comfortable to be laying on the mattress that he was now.  </span><br/>
<br/>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tommy pulled the covers up to his nose, and for the first time, was lulled into a peaceful slumber. </span>
</p>
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